Catching Shadows
by sharkflip
Summary: Zuko searches for a wolf to find a dragon while Katara struggles to understand the powers within her. Supernatural AU.
1. In Search of Golden Peaks

**Chapter 1: In Search of Golden Peaks**

posted June 9, 2009

* * *

Fog shrouded the water around him, turning the landscape into forested islands rising from a sea of clouds.

_Some of them probably _are _islands_, Zuko thought to himself. He gripped the railing tightly, the metal cold even through his gloves, and stared out into the fog. Waves lapped against the ship's hull as it moved through the water, and Zuko found himself both relishing and hating their slowed progress into port. He itched to arrive at his destination at the same time he wanted the shipboard interlude to continue.

Zuko narrowed his eyes, trying to see through the fog to the mountains he knew rose above the hilly islands around the ship. The dark green trees faded to grey against grey in the gloom, shifting and appearing between fogbanks. Before the fog had descended yesterday, he'd spent the long hours aboard just staring up at the peaks, which seemed to stretch into the sky itself. The landscape had grown larger, wilder as they'd traveled south, away from the gentle ridges and basins surrounding Ba Jin Hu. They called to him, both foreign and somehow familiar, as if this was where part of his soul wanted to be.

_Maybe this means my search is about to come to an end_, he thought, and then with a surprising suddenness, the ship's prow seemed to slice through the fog and emerge into clear air. Zuko looked back as the stern emerged from the fogbank, which appeared as a fluid wave rolling down the hillside from the mountains. Ahead of the vessel, now in bright sunlight, the islands and inlets were a deep green against sparkling blue waters, and far ahead Zuko could see bright towers marking a harbor entrance.

He breathed in deeply, let it out, and waited.

* * *

Fog shrouded the woods around her, drifting in and out of the trees and appearing as wraiths that reached after her with damp fingers as she walked steadily down the trail.

_You have nothing to fear in _these_ woods_, Katara told herself. She hummed under her breath, an ancient song she barely remembered, and kept her steps light but firm. An eagle called nearby, chuckling shrilly through the fog, and Katara felt an irrational surge of relief that she was not the only creature who stirred in the woods this afternoon.

The trail branched, the tall signpost looming suddenly out of the fog, and Katara felt glad to be coming home. This expedition should have been easy, but her charges had been difficult. _Spoiled city brats, the lot of them_, she thought with disgust. _At least they wanted to "navigate" their own way out of the woods_. She hoped she'd be hired on as a guide to another trip before the search began for their bodies.

Then guilt struck her for the dark thought, and she sent a silent apology to the gods of patience and mercy. _Of course I would go find them_, she reassured herself. _I can't abandon people who need me_.

Katara came to a bend in the trail and saw the fog brighten beyond. Her footsteps quickened and suddenly she was out of the cloud, sunlight warm upon her face. She set her pack down by the side of the trail and stretched, gazing down on the landscape tumbled below her. From here, she could see the little town spread out in the distance, the harbor beyond it and farther still a ship steaming towards the protected waters. She focused, narrowing her eyes to scan the docks, straining to make out the details of each small vessel; she frowned at the absence of one in particular. She brushed it aside and shouldered her pack again, continuing her journey towards the town.

_Home_, Katara thought despite herself, savoring the feeling of life in the woods that surrounded her, the faint bustle of the town tickling her senses even at this great distance.

* * *

The town spread out ahead of him, rows of rough wooden buildings built above muddy streets. Zuko took in weathered storefronts beside newer establishments, jammed together in a loose parody of the cities he knew. People and animals walked the streets, stood at street corners, rested on porches and benches. The air smelled like salt and mud and the freshness of the woods; like sweat and cooking and stale drink.

The man behind him jostled Zuko and the spell was broken. He stepped forward onto the gangway and down onto the creaking wooden wharf; his trunk waited there, piled haphazardly atop other luggage. Zuko made sure that its tag, marked with his name and the name of the inn, was still securely attached, then tipped the baggage handler to ensure extra care with it. He stepped to the edge of the wharf and pulled a worn piece of paper from his jacket pocket. The words were firmly lodged in his memory, but he re-read them anyway. In his own hand, he'd carefully copied part of his uncle's last letter, which read:

_East of the setting sun_

_A windy place_

_With white caps on the water_

_Where wolves prowl_

_And dragons nest_

Below that, more hastily scrawled, was:

_Golden Peaks Lodging House, Skaguak_

_Seek out the Wolf_

Satisfied, Zuko carefully tucked the paper back into his pocket and looked back down the wharf to the town. The mountains rose up above it, blue-green and grey against the brown and gaudy buildings, already shadowed as the sun dipped below the towering horizon.

"Hey mister, do you need help finding your way around?" Startled, Zuko looked down to see a young boy grinning up at him. "I'll be your guide for a nickel."

He tried to keep his expression neutral, but the boy's eyes widened as he saw the scar that stretched across Zuko's face, the mark of shame burned into his skin. The boy took a small step backward, his thoughts clear across his face: he regretted his offer to this scarred stranger with the haunted look. Sighing inwardly, Zuko turned back to the town. "I can find my own way."

* * *

Katara breathed in a sigh of relief as she spotted the rough wooden arch set over the path. _Welcome to Skaguak, Golden City of the South_, she knew it read, still standing where some forgotten optimist had erected it decades ago.

Katara smiled to herself, adjusting the straps of her pack to shift the weight lower on her hips. _The gold may be gone_, she thought, _but a hot bath sounds more valuable right now, anyway_. She stepped forward, through the gate, and the path widened out into a broad dirt road. The temple's spire rose, elegant, over the shacks and cabins that edged the town and Katara set out towards it, thinking of her bath, a hot meal she didn't have to prepare herself, and a soft bed.

* * *

Zuko walked with slow purpose along Water Street. Skaguak's boom-town glory had long faded, leaving an odd collection of buildings, lots, and people behind. He passed the steamship booking office, a tiny building squatting at the edge of the wharf, and then glanced along the waterfront. Fishing boats moored in haphazard rows in front of a cannery, built over the water on pilings and rank with the smell of gutted fish. Beyond it, log rafts bobbed gently in the water, anchored to buoys and awaiting the big towboats to take them up the coast.

The breeze shifted slightly and the smell of fish and tide flats strengthened; Zuko turned away from the waterfront and stepped onto the boardwalk edging State Street. A general store, two taverns, an outfitter, and a machinery distributor crammed together along the narrow avenue, second-story windows showing the apartments built over the shop spaces. Men and women hurried along the streets, and as Zuko passed another tavern, he saw only a few patrons inside at this hour.

Front Street looked much the same, with a broad muddy street edged by wooden boardwalks and a jumble of buildings. A few horses and mules stood tethered to posts, waiting patiently as the afternoon deepened. Zuko noted a tailor's shop, a post office that advertised "Now Offering Wire Services" on a faded wooden sign, another general store, three more taverns, and a haberdashery. He saw the spire of a temple – the Eastern Earth Order, he thought – looming over the buildings as he continued down the block.

The buildings grew more orderly and well-maintained as Zuko neared the temple. A stately building with ornate windows and a neatly-lettered sign reading "Skaguak Opera House" stood opposite a fine brick structure advertising "Clean Modern Rooms – Stay a Night, Stay a Week, Stay a Lifetime."

As he walked, Zuko noted the other people on the street nodding to each other and exchanging greetings. Some of them looked quite rough, as if they had just descended from the mountains that towered over the town, while others could have easily walked down the streets of Ba Jin Hu, or even the great Eastern cities of ten years ago. Several nodded in cool greeting to Zuko, but most kept their gazes away. _A stranger_, they seemed to say with their glances, and Zuko clenched his hands in his pockets.

* * *

Katara walked with purpose down D Street, passing quickly through the rough shanties of the loggers' town. She nodded to the blacksmith's young apprentice, who blushed and quickly looked at his feet, and smiled at the children playing before the creamery. "Katara, Katara!" they cried, running towards her and grasping her overshirt with grubby hands.

She laughed down at them, crouching to pull them both into a hug. "Hello Zhi, Hello Kai. Have you been being good boys?"

"Yes, auntie Katara," they chorused, nodding somberly at her.

She grinned and ruffled their dark hair. "Tell your parents I said hi, and I'll see them soon, I hope."

"You aren't staying?" Kai asked, disappointment in his big dark eyes.

"Not today." She wrinkled her nose. "I need a bath."

They giggled and she stood, giving them a last smile as she continued on her way.

The buildings grew closer together as she walked past brightly-painted houses and the white schoolhouse. Miss Tanak smiled to her from the steps where she held the hands of two pupils – "Auntie Katara!" they called – and Katara waved back, not breaking stride. She passed the dress shop run by the Tai Ping sisters, then turned onto Front Street. The smell of ink and oiled metal hovered around Zhoutang's Print Shop, where the Skaguak Weekly Nugget was produced, and Katara smiled at the two girls peering excitedly into Yang Zi's haberdashery.

She could feel the town returning to life after the long winter, soaking her senses like warm sunlight.

* * *

Zuko paused in front of the inn, neat and well-maintained in contrast to the sagging building across the street. A sign over its doorway showed two orange-yellow mountains over the words "Inn;" it looked as close to the "Golden Peaks Lodging House" as he was likely to find. Zuko looked up and down the street, breathed deeply, and pushed open the door.

Zuko waited for his eyes to adjust to the interior, dim after the late afternoon brightness. He looked carefully around the room, noting good-quality but worn furnishings, fifteen or twenty years out of date from when they had been popular in the East. The wide tapestries let little light through the windows, and the dark wallpaper and wooden trim kept the room dim.

Beside an interior door blocked by a curtain, a wide wooden desk sat with a bell atop it. Zuko hesitated, then stepped carefully forward and rang it.

"Coming!" a voice called from behind the curtain. Zuko heard voices conversing, too low to make out the words, then a crash like something had fallen off a table, then loud footsteps. Then the curtain pulled back to reveal a short, slight man with an oversized pair of spectacles perched on his nose. "Yes? I'm Ho Ten. What can I do for you?" he asked.

"I need a room," Zuko replied. "Ju Siang in Ba Jin Hu recommended the Golden Peaks as – "

"You're in luck! We happen to have a room available! I hope it suits you – we really don't have too many travelers like yourself passing through." As he talked, the Ho Ten was busy opening drawers in the desk, shuffling through paper and clearly hunting for something. "We hardly have enough travelers to justify keeping a fine inn such as the Golden Peaks, not since the boom ended, thirty years ago now – not that many of them would have stayed at the Golden Peaks. At least not _this_ Golden Peaks – they were eager for the real thing; trying to claim a stake and find their fortunes. Ah!" Ho Ten seemed to find what he was looking for; an oversized key, dangling from a ring with a large metal tag. "Room nine! My favorite – you're lucky it's not occupied. We have a few long-term residents here, folks who need a place to stay while they're in town and don't mind reserving it when they're not." He thrust the key at Zuko, who took it reflexively.

Through-out this long explanation, Zuko had tried to nod at the appropriate intervals, hoping that Ho Ten would show him his room soon. "My trunk?" he asked, when the proprietor stopped his chatter to scribble something in an open logbook. "I had it sent from the steamer –"

"Ah! It arrived a short while ago, and a very fine trunk it is, though it looks a bit worn. You must have been traveling for quite some time, Mr…"

"Souzin," Zuko supplied.

"Mr. Souzin," Ho Ten repeated. "Well, I hope you're here to stay for a bit – Skaguak might be a little out of the way, but it'll grow on you if you let it." He disappeared back through the curtain, and Zuko shortly heard loud scraping noises. He winced, then carefully schooled his face back into a neutral expression as Ho Ten re-emerged, dragging the trunk behind him.

"How long do you intend to stay with us at the Golden Peaks, Mr. Souzin?" Ho Ten asked, leaving the trunk beside Zuko and returning to the desk. He trailed his finger down to the log-book entry he'd started, then paused expectantly.

"I don't… really know," Zuko responded. He felt suddenly weary, tired from far more than just the journey to Skaguak.

"Well, I'll put you down for tonight and tomorrow, and then we'll see after that," Ho Ten responded, scribbling in his book.

Zuko nodded, relieved, and fished his wallet from his jacket pocket. "How much?" he asked.

"For a friend of Ju Siang… fifteen!" Zuko counted out the coins and dropped them into Ho Ten's palm. The man beamed and slapped the keys down into Zuko's open hand. "Welcome to the Golden Peaks, my friend! I hope you will enjoy your stay in our fine city."

* * *

Katara stopped briefly at the sheriff's office, a narrow building squeezed between the saddler and Uruk's General Store. She pushed the door open and leaned inside.

"Katara!" Suki cried, leaping up from her desk. Katara stepped fully into the room in time to return Suki's hug. "How was it?"

"Worse than usual. I'll tell you about it later – I really need to catch a bath before anything else." She paused. "I didn't see…"

"He's supposed to be in later this week," Suki reassured her. "He sent me a wire from Kanikek saying that the _Southern Wind_ is doing great, and he hopes to make good time coming back in."

Katara sighed in relief. "Thanks, Suki. You know how Sokka is with his new toys, and that thing seemed totally untested."

"Oh, I know. He said it works like a dream." Suki hugged her again, then patted her back. "Don't let me keep you from your bath. I'll see you soon."

Katara smiled and nodded, then stepped back outside. The long southern afternoon stretched towards twilight as she ducked into a narrow alley between Uruk's store and the Down South Outfitters. She pulled her key from her pack and fumbled a bit as she reached the back door. The latch was stiff and the hinges rusty, but inside, the Golden Peaks was quite luxurious, well worth the monthly rent for a comfortable place in town.

Katara hummed to herself, thinking of the new iron bathtub, and stepped into the back hall.

* * *

Zuko fumbled with his trunk, trying to wrestle its bulk up the narrow staircase. Ho Ten had promptly disappeared after handing him the key – not that Zuko would have asked for or accepted help with his luggage, once delivered. He pushed the trunk up onto the landing, then maneuvered it around to the next flight of stairs.

He'd long practiced the philosophy of packing only what you could carry and it had served him well these past years. The servants and porters he'd grown up with were a distant memory, and he took comfort in his self-sufficiency as he pushed the trunk up the stairs.

He tried not to think of how lonely it could be.

* * *

Katara hopped up the cramped back staircase, the weight of her pack forgotten as she neared her room and the bath. _Home_, she thought, then wondered when this creaking lodging house with its odd proprietors had become "home." _Home should be elsewhere_, she thought, but then crushed the idea and the images that rose with it.

She opened the door and stepped into the top-story hallway.

* * *

Zuko heaved his trunk up the last flight of stairs, settling it with a satisfying _thunk_ onto the hall floor. Dimly, he noted the pattern on the carpet – it was good quality, but the center was worn and frayed from years of footfalls. He fumbled for the key he'd pocketed, then stepped down the hall to find his room –

– and walked straight into another person.

Startled, Zuko looked down into vivid blue eyes and he reached out to steady the woman before he realized he'd moved. His fingertips met her shoulders and he felt an almost physical shock, like the static before a winter storm, and he stared at her as she stared back, knowing that it was both the beginning and the end of something.


	2. The Comforts of Home

**The Comforts of Home**

posted June 12, 2009

* * *

"Are you okay?" Zuko asked, hastily releasing the blue-eyed woman. "I'm sorry, I didn't –"

"It's okay, I'm fine." She raised her hands and smiled at him and he found himself drowning in her eyes again. She was young – his age or younger – with long brown hair gathered into braids and those eyes… She extended her hand, breaking the spell. "I'm Katara."

Zuko stared stupidly at her hand for a moment before his manners took over instinctively. Something about her – her worn leather boots and sturdy mountaineering clothing, the directness of her gaze – warned him not to treat her like a _lady_, like blown glass and lace. He clasped her hand in his own but instead of bowing low over it, he squeezed lightly. "I'm Zuko," he responded.

She released his hand and smiled again. _I could watch her all day_, he thought. "You look like you just arrived. Just came in on the steamer?"

The way she said it made it a statement, rather than a question. "Yeah…"

She tilted her head. "Have you settled in yet?"

"Uh… no. No, I just arrived, and I was just looking for my room." Zuko looked down at his key, read the tag again. "Number nine." He looked back up, glanced at the room numbers.

"It's that one," Katara said, pointing behind him. "Right across from mine. The washroom is through there," she said, pointing again. "All the rooms on this floor share it, but rooms eleven and twelve aren't occupied right now." She frowned briefly. "At least they weren't when I left. Anyway." She picked up her pack and stepped carefully around his trunk.

"Oh. Thanks," he looked briefly at the door she'd indicated was his, then turned back to her, unsure of what he should say. She unlocked her door, then turned to look at him.

"Now, I hope you don't mind, but I'm calling dibs on the washroom for the next few hours. I haven't had a bath in two weeks and I'm really feeling it."

"Okay. That's fine. I need to… settle in, anyway."

She disappeared into her room and Zuko forced himself to reach for his trunk, rather than stare after her. He had maneuvered it to his doorway and was fumbling with the lock when he heard Katara emerge from her room. He turned to see her carrying a towel and a basket.

"Do you have plans for dinner?" she asked, surprising him.

"Uh, no. I hadn't really thought that far ahead," he admitted. _Very articulate, Zuko_, he thought sarcastically.

"Well, I'm planning on going to the Whitehorse Saloon. It's the best place in town for a hot meal and a cold drink, and I'd be happy to introduce you to it." She smiled again.

"That would be… nice. Um…"

"I'll knock on your door when I'm ready to leave." She smiled again turned away from him, walking down the hall towards the wash room. He heard the door click closed as he leaned his head on the doorframe, key forgotten in his hand.

_Katara_, he thought, letting her voice roll through his memory. He shivered.

* * *

_Zuko_, she thought as she closed the washroom door.

She plugged the bathtub's drain and opened the taps. Hot water poured into the basin and she sighed in anticipation, stepping back to peel off her clothes. She wrinkled her nose. _Laundry day tomorrow_. She kicked her pants to the corner, tossing her shirt, then her underclothes on top of the heap. She pulled a packet of aromatic herbs from her basket and added them to the filling bathtub, breathing deeply as the smells of mountain meadows filled the room.

_An Eastern name, yellow eyes... Fire Nation?_ She pictured his face, the puckered burn scar stretching across his left eye into his hairline, and wondered what had driven him so far south.

Katara shook her head. People in the Southern Territories as a rule did not ask questions about the past. _Everyone has their reason for being here_, she thought, idly tracing the lines running over her stomach, along her thigh, circling behind her knees; she touched her mother's necklace, cool and familiar against her skin.

The tub filled quickly, and Katara soon climbed into it, sinking back into the deep water and sighing again. She rested her head on the wide, curving lip and let her legs relax against the edges. _Oh… this was worth it all_, she thought.

Katara let her mind wander: disappointment that her brother's fishing boat hadn't returned, relief that Suki wasn't worried about him… She made a note to visit the cobbler about her left boot, and she thought again of the stranger settling into the room opposite from hers. She could distantly sense him moving around, quietly and deliberately, a contrast to Ho Ten's cheerful bluster far below.

She drew in a deep breath and held it, letting her head slip beneath the steaming water. She remembered when the town had hummed with activity, strangers pouring into it every day from a mismatched flotilla of boats. Zhoutang's father, who had founded the _Weekly Nugget_, said that thousands of people had passed through Skaguak during the gold rush, most chasing dreams and rumors. It had been wonderful and wild, and she thought fondly of the men who had taught her to read human trails in the woods, the women who showed that grit and beauty and brains were not incompatible.

_Now it's just wealthy tourists from up North_, she thought bitterly, _and men desperate for one last chance to work._ She rose back to the surface, exhaling deeply as she settled back against the tub. _Not that I miss everything about those days_, she thought quickly, blessing Ho Ten for installing the bathtub, the latest fad to travel south.

_And sometimes…_ Every so often, among the chattering tourists and taciturn laborers, someone like Zuko arrived in Skaguak. _I wonder what he's searching for,_ she wondered. He had an air of sophistication about him, echoed in short hair and the fine cut of his worn clothing, and she doubted he was heading towards the mining fields or the fishing fleet. _Maybe he's looking for an old relative who came here during the Gold Rush. An uncle, perhaps…_

* * *

"We'll both have Sami's grilled salmon special," Katara told the waitress, a whip-thin woman with thickly callused hands. "And two drinks to start.

The waitress nodded. "The usual, then." She turned back towards the counter and Katara turned back to Zuko.

"I hope you don't mind me ordering for you, but no one in Skaguak can grill salmon like Sami."

Zuko shrugged, a slight lift of his shoulders. "I don't mind."

"My brother works on one of the regular fishboats, the _Southern Winds_," Katara said, relaxing back against her chair. She fit right into the Whitehorse Saloon, lean and brown and rustic like the wooden paneling on the walls. A fire burned in a stone hearth opposite the bar, and the other patrons talked quietly, giving the room a pleasant background hum. In contrast, Zuko felt stiff and out of place. "He's been the chief for more than a year."

"You mean the captain?" Zuko kicked himself as soon as the words left his mouth.

"No, the chief – the chief engineer." Katara corrected with a smile. "According to Sokka, all the captain does is yell and turn the wheel – the engineers do all the work. He keeps the machinery working and the boat going, which is what counts." The waitress returned, setting their drinks on the table and nodding at Katara.

"He should be back any day now," Katara continued, picking up her mug and sipping. "He just installed a new engine in the _Southern Wind_, and it was all he could talk about before this trip."

"Oh?" Zuko asked, to keep the conversation flowing. He tasted his own drink; it was smooth and cold, as promised.

"Yeah, some new thing he had shipped south from Ba Jin Hu. He says it's 'the way of the future.' I don't really understand the difference between it and the old engine, but Sokka says that it takes half the work of keeping the old steam plant and boilers going."

Katara paused to drink again, set her mug back down. The bracelets on her wrists clinked softly, and Zuko wondered if he should say something, but then Katara picked the conversation up again. "Me, I hate being in the engine room. I don't even like boats very much."

"You don't like water?" Zuko asked.

"Oh, I love the water – I just don't like being _on_ it." She paused to drink, continued. "I spend a lot of time as a guide, taking people from here to somewhere else overland. There were a lot of trails and roads made during the Gold Rush, but most of them are pretty bad now. Most people traveling through here from up North want a guide to take them through to Deadhorse or Kilkao or wherever they're going, and they pay pretty well for it."

Katara paused to drink again and comfortable silence stretched between them. She played with a necklace half-hidden under her shirt, silver etched with swirling lines. Zuko felt that she waited for him, trying to give him a chance to participate in the conversation.

He cleared his throat softly, set his drink down on the table. "I… spent a lot of time looking at the mountains, on the steamer," he offered. "I think I can understand not wanting to face them alone."

Katara nodded, a smile at her lips as Zuko continued slowly. "I've never seen mountains like these." He gestured vaguely, trying to convey how the ridges plunged into the inlets, seeming to leave no space for trails or people. "They… haven't been _tamed_…"

Zuko stared at his hands, feeling a blush rise to his cheeks. _Tamed_? he asked himself, but Katara nodded, seeming to understand.

"Most of the people in the Territories are clustered into the towns, or some small villages, or way-stations along the main trails," she explained. "Most of the ridges are too rough to live on, so they really _are_ untamed." Zuko felt relief course through him as the waitress returned, setting down two steaming platters.

Katara thanked her, then picked up her chopsticks and used them to gesture at Zuko's plate. "That's the salmon, there, with Sami's special huckleberry glaze. Those are steamed spring greens – you pour the sauce over them like this – and those are roasted new potatoes with wild onions. The stew is probably from yesterday – it's better if you let it cool overnight and reheat it." She tucked into her own food, and Zuko followed her lead.

It was simple, hearty food, wholly unlike the carefully arranged portions and delicate spices he'd long been accustomed to. He savored each serving, the greens crunchy and sharp, the potatoes savory, and the salmon buttery under a tart glaze. He wondered if he'd ever tasted anything so delicious.

As they ate, they continued to talk. Zuko learned that she had grown up in a small village several days' travel from Skaguak, that she and her brother were very close, that she liked staying at the Golden Peaks Inn because Ho Ten and his wife didn't mind her coming and going on her own schedule, and she loved the luxury of running water after weeks at a time in the woods.

In return, Zuko tried to tell her about himself. He'd realized that she wasn't going to ask why he had come to Skaguak, where he was from, or any other personal questions; she was waiting for what he would tell her himself. He talked about riding the steamer north, about the slow overland route south to Skaguak; of a land of brown hills and a ruined city far in the north.

After the meal, Katara ordered more drinks for them both; the waitress set them on the table, and Katara picked hers up. "Come on," she gestured with her head. "It's more comfortable over here." She lowered herself into the settle arranged before the fire, and Zuko sat down opposite her. He sank back into the cushions, and they talked.

She and her brother were among the last of her small tribe, who had dwelled here long before the Gold Rush, long before Skaguak, long before anyone up North had even thought of the Southern Territories. She knew the woods better than anyone in town, and could stalk, kill, skin, and butcher a moose before most of the town's hunters could pack their gear. She knew most of the town's occupants by name, a fact supported by how many of the saloon's patrons stopped to greet her.

Zuko talked less and listened more as the evening stretched between them, savoring Katara's voice and her easy friendship. By their fourth drink, he felt relaxed, almost comfortable, and he found himself wanting to tell her everything, wanting to spill everything to those deep blue eyes and maybe gain some measure of peace in their gaze. He closed his mouth, dropped his eyes to study the carpet, and sipped his drink as she talked of her tribe's legend of the thunderbird and its lightning serpents, the wolves and the great killer whale.

* * *

They walked back to the Golden Peaks together. Katara savored the cool air against her face; the fire and the drinks had warmed her almost uncomfortably and the night felt wonderful. Beside her, Zuko radiated heat and exhaustion; Katara could feel the weariness rolling off of him like the fog that morning, could taste how tired he was not just from today, but from his journey.

They walked in comfortable silence now, and Katara remembered how easy their conversation had been, how naturally it came. Zuko was good company, even if he had been careful not to speak of his past. She'd seen the weary expression cross his face as he spoke of his travel, carefully avoiding where he'd started the journey from. An underlying shame and loneliness had textured the words. _I'm sure he'll tell me eventually, if he wants to_, she thought. _If he stays around_.

She hoped he would; she felt a connection growing between them already, despite how recently they'd met. Since that afternoon, she'd felt it establish itself, reaching out to this stranger who clearly belonged here but didn't. She knew it was related to _that_, to the wildness that ran through her blood, but she didn't know enough about that part of her family to know what it was. Silently, she cursed the Shadow-Catchers, and then they were at the Golden Peaks.

Katara stumbled on the stairs, the loose plank on the second staircase that Ho Ten always said he was about to fix, and she felt Zuko's hand warm on her back. "Careful," he said, and she smiled at the concern in his voice.

They reached the top floor and paused, neither one stepping to unlock their door.

"Thanks for showing me the saloon," Zuko said, after a pause.

"It was my pleasure," she responded. She tipped her head to the side and he looked up, meeting her gaze. His eyes glinted in the dim light and she felt suddenly warmed, looking into their golden expanse. "I don't have any other jobs lined up yet. Why don't I show you around Skaguak tomorrow?"

Zuko seemed to think about it for a moment, then smiled at her, a faint lift of his lips. "I'd like that." Her smile deepened in return; he seemed a man of few expressions. She watched his face, noted the way his eyes moved more than his mouth, softening, and filed it away in her memory.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning, then," she said as she turned to her door. "Good night."

"Good night," he said softly in return. "And thanks."

* * *

The morning dawned cool and clear, but the chill had long faded as Katara and Zuko walked through Skaguak. The town was not large, nestled between a river, the mountains, and the long narrow harbor. They quickly passed through the "commercial district" near the Golden Peaks, through the buildings clustered between Front Street and Water Street. Katara gestured to points of interest – "That's the new library; it was built by some Northern tycoon a few years ago – here's the bank – you know the Whitehorse Saloon, but the Black Elk is better for a quick lunch – Uruk's store has lots of dry goods, but if you need mountaineering equipment, go to Down South or Bei Fong's" – and Zuko walked beside her, seemingly content to listen.

Beyond the temple and the school – "They built this one just last year, the old one was up there on the hill" – the town stretched into scattered houses and vacant lots, evidence of faded dreams from the Gold Rush. Soon they came to a wide creek that lay between the town and the first forested slope. A bridge stretched over it – "up there is the old Fire temple; there's still a few sages who tend it, but most of the order moved into town when they opened the new temple" – and they paused in the middle of its span. They stood for a moment looking out at where the creek widened to join the river's floodplain. Late wildflowers waved in a gentle breeze and Katara heard gulls crying as they circled the distant cannery.

She broke the silence first. "That's probably it… unless you want to see the logging camps. They're back over there." She gestured behind them, upstream. "So you should be able to find what you're looking for." She carefully didn't look at him.

Zuko stared out over the floodplain, hands clasped lightly on the wooden railing. "What I'm looking for…" he repeated softly. He reached into his pocket, drew out a crumpled slip of paper, read it. He looked up and Katara saw weariness and hope warring in his expression.

"Katara," he started. "Do you know of someone called the Wolf?"

She felt hot suddenly, and a little giddy, and she laughed. Zuko frowned, a tilt of his lips less subtle than his smile. "Well, yes," she finally responded, waving her hand in apology. "That's me."


	3. Far Away from Anywhere

**Chapter 3: Far Away from Anywhere**

posted June 19, 2009

* * *

Zuko stared stupidly as Katara smiled at him, laughter still reflected in her eyes. _Seek out the Wolf_, the voice echoed through his memory, disconnected from this enchanting woman before him.

"A man who taught me how to find trails in the forest said I was good at it, but too enthusiastic – like a wolf cub." She shrugged, grinned sheepishly. "I got better at it, and found a few people's lost relatives, and then everyone was calling me 'the Wolf.'"

"Ah… oh," Zuko finally responded.

"Not who you expected, am I?" she asked.

"No…"

"I bet you expected 'the Wolf' to be some grizzled old mountain man, with a beard down to here." She gestured towards her knees.

"Something like that…"

"So, who are you trying to find?" She sounded eager, and Zuko tried to swallow his embarrassment. _What is it about this girl_? he wondered.

"I might give you a special discount rate for helping you," she continued, elbowing him gently.

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and exhaled. "My uncle. I'm trying to find my uncle, and… "

Katara cut him off. "I _knew_ it was an uncle!"

* * *

"Toph!" Katara called, pushing the door open. "Do you still have those census records you wangled out of the capitol?"

Zuko glanced around the room, his eyes adjusting to its dimness. Bags, tents, heavy boots, parkas, odd-looking equipment, and simple weapons lay around the room, heaped in piles or hung on the walls. Lamps sat unlit in sconces on the walls, the only light filtering through the tall storefront windows. He turned to study Katara, who stood with hands on hips in the center of the room, glaring behind the counter.

"Come on, Toph, I know you're back there!" she yelled.

"How much are they worth to you?" a voice finally responded from a shadowed doorway, girlish but rough.

Katara stepped forward, dragging Zuko with her by the sleeve. "Oh, stuff it, Toph. It's for a friend. Do you have them or not?"

A young woman shuffled into the room, her form indistinct in the dim light. She leaned on the doorframe, seeming to peer out at them; Zuko could feel her eyes on him, milky green and unfocused. He felt suddenly that he could see straight through him, see the core of his soul exposed, and it unsettled him.

"Yeah, I have them," the girl – Toph – finally replied, not shifting her eyes. "But if you find who you're looking for in them, you'd better outfit yourself _here_."

"Fine, fine." Katara waved her hand.

Toph huffed and stepped into the back room. "She's blind," Katara whispered. "Don't let her fool you." Zuko looked sideways at her; she smiled in return, and he settled himself. _Friend_, she'd said, and he felt warm again. They waited in comfortable silence, listening to rummaging in the back room.

"Zuko," Katara said suddenly. He turned to her, tilted his head slightly. "You can read, right?"

Before Zuko could reply, Toph stomped back into the room and slammed a heavy, leather-bound ledger onto the counter. "Here," she said. "Don't mind me." She hopped up onto a stool, crossed her ankles on the counter, and leaned back, seeming to fall asleep.

Katara reached for a lamp pushed to the side of the counter, adjusted its wick. She pulled a long match from a box on the counter, struck it, and lit the lamp. Light flared and Zuko winced at its sudden brightness, while Katara opened the ledger and began flipping through its pages. Zuko saw names, numbers, addresses, occupations, all neatly written in columns and rows on heavy paper. "You think he would have been here four years ago?" she asked.

"All I know is that he went west." He pulled the paper from his pocket and smoothed it on the counter in front of them. Katara glanced at it briefly, then looked up and met his eyes. Disconcerted, Zuko dropped his gaze and read aloud: "'_East of the setting sun, a windy place, with white caps on the water, where wolves prowl, and dragons nest.'"_ He paused, eyes still downcast. "Uncle wrote that to me in a letter when I… about eight years ago."

Zuko looked up at Katara, who seemed lost in thought. "I figured out that 'east of the setting sun' means west, and eventually, I found out that 'Skaguak' means 'a windy place with white caps on the water.' That brought me here." Zuko looked back down at the paper, remembering their last conversation, the weariness in his uncle's eyes. _This life we lead, _he'd said_. It's killing us, Zuko, even as we kill._ "Some of his friends called uncle 'the Dragon,' so I think he planned to come here to 'nest' even then."

"Well, as you said, that got you here, so let's start with that." Katara looked down at the ledger, idly flipping its pages. "What did your uncle do?"

"Back home… he was… in the family business," Zuko explained awkwardly. "He gave that up when he left. I don't know what he would have done since."

Katara nodded and Zuko swallowed his relief at her easy acceptance. "And you said he's about 50 or 60… what's his name?"

"Iroh Souzin."

Toph sat bolt upright. "You're looking for _Iroh_?" she yelped, a surprised chorus with Katara.

Zuko stared at them for a long moment. "You know Uncle?" he finally asked.

Katara glanced at Toph while Toph continued to stare unnervingly at Zuko. Katara finally replied. "I know an Iroh, about fifty or sixty years old, who came here…" she seemed to think. "Five or ten years ago, now. It's not exactly a common name around here."

"It isn't back home, either."

"Well, he's been keeping a way-station along the trail to Deadhorse," Katara continued. "It's three or four days' walk from here. He makes great food – and his tea is amazing." Zuko snorted as Katara kept talking. "I like traveling that trail, just for the chance to visit with Iroh."

They stood in silence for a moment, Zuko staring at the ledger in front of him without seeing it, thinking of his garrulous, frivolous uncle living in the wilderness for so long. "Why would he be keeping a _way-station_?" he wondered aloud.

Toph seemed to look straight at him for a moment, her blank gaze unnerving. "There're only so many ways to escape your past," she stated bluntly.

Zuko flinched at her words, feeling Katara's curious gaze on him.

Toph grinned, the expression both understanding and savage. "This is as far as you can get from anywhere, Sunshine."

* * *

"So…" Zuko started. "What _is_ a way-station?"

They reached the top of the stairs, hauling bags and boxes up with them. Katara had generously offered to carry some of the "gear" that she and Toph insisted was necessary for the journey to Iroh's way-station, though Zuko wondered what the point was if he was going to have to carry it on his back tomorrow, anyway.

"It's like a little inn along the trail," Katara replied, maneuvering a box into their hallway. "There's a few of them along the trails to Deadhorse and Kilkao, and farther out in the territories, especially towards the Kuyon. They're meant to help keep travelers from dying of exposure or starving because they set out unprepared."

Zuko fumbled with his keys, unlocked his door. "That was a problem?" he asked absently, pushing it open.

"Oh, you better believe it. We get a lot of people coming from up north to find their fortune or a new job or some long-lost relative who have _no_ idea what the Southern Territories are like outside the towns." She paused. "Meaning no offense to yourself."

"None taken."

"During the gold rush, the government up North saw how many _chichakos_ were getting themselves killed on the trail and declared that anyone headed down here had to be properly outfitted and bring a thousand pounds of supplies with them. That's where outfitters like Toph made a killing." Katara pushed an awkward package into his room and heaved it up onto the bed. "They also started offering incentives for locals to set up way-stations. The gold's long gone – not that there was that much of it to begin with – but the governor still makes sure there's way-stations along the main trails."

Zuko nodded absently as she talked, staring at the equipment piled on his bed. "Am I really going to need all this?" he asked. The predatory satisfaction on Toph's face as she rang up the gear had disturbed him. _"You think you're going to walk to Iroh's way-station like that?"_ she'd asked rhetorically, gesturing at his traveling clothes. _"You have a lot to learn about the Southern Territories, Sunshine."_

"Hopefully not," Katara replied, breaking his recollection. "But if you need it and you don't have it…" She held up the heavy wool undergarments that Toph had insisted would save his "nethers" from frostbite.

"Right."

"We'll start out first thing tomorrow morning, so let's get all this packed now." Katara gestured to his trunk. "You can keep that in my room while you're gone, if you want. You won't have to pay for a room you're not using just to store your trunk."

"Thanks."

"I hate mules, so I always pack a lot lighter then they did during the gold rush. Everything needs to fit on our backs." As she talked, Katara started sorting through his new supplies. "That's why Toph is the best outfitter for this kind of trip – she specializes in the lighter-weight gear. This tent –" she held it up, a compact bundle – "is way better than the monstrosities they sell at Down South."

Zuko watched as Katara tucked packages and clothing into his bag, talking all the way. "It's only three or four days out to Iroh's way-station, so we don't need that much food. See how you can roll these together? It saves lots of space. And these – you'll need these if the pass hasn't cleared yet. Anyway, there's lots of streams along the trail, so we can fish for our suppers." She paused, surveying her work. Zuko was impressed despite himself: nearly all of the gear was neatly packed into the bag or strapped to its outside.

Katara stood. "I'll go get your share of the trail food – I've got plenty, so you just have to – oh! Suki!"

Zuko regarded her as she stopped in his doorway. She turned to look at him, her expression sheepish. "Suki, my brother's wife – I said we'd catch up before I left town again, but it looks like that's sooner than I expected."

Zuko started to speak, to tell her that it was okay, she didn't need to change her plans for him, but she cut him off again. "Suki loves company – I'm sure she won't mind an extra person at the table, especially since I'll make brown bread – she loves brown bread." Katara met his eyes and smiled. "Let me just go grab something, and then we can head over."

She left before he could reply, breezing out of the room. Zuko stared after her for a moment, then sat back on his bed. Outside, afternoon slowly faded to evening and he reflected on how he had met her only a day before. _Katara_, he thought, and the sound of her name in his memory made him feel warmer, the world around him somehow brighter. For the first time since he'd been cast out, sent away, estranged from everything he'd ever known, he felt that maybe he still had a future beyond the journey west.

* * *

Zuko sat carefully on a worn chair, listening to the sound of clinking dishes and low feminine laughter coming from the kitchen. Suki had shooed him back to the sitting room while she and Katara cleaned up, citing a need for "girl talk."

The room was small but comfortable, painted in dark greens with polished wood trim and an assortment of mismatched furniture. The curtains were drawn shut against the night, but the flickering lamplight warmed the room; electricity was still new to Skaguak and hadn't reached Suki's building yet. The mantel over the unlit fireplace held keepsakes and framed photos and Zuko, restless, stood to study them closer.

In one, Katara and a young man who shared her wide eyes and dark hair stood together, his arm slung affectionately over her shoulder. _Her brother_, Zuko thought, noting the boat they stood before. Another photo showed the brother and Suki in wedding finery, carefully posed before a lakeside pavilion. The print had been tinted with watercolors, giving the scene an ethereal beauty.

The final photograph showed Katara and her brother with a much older woman standing before them, regarding the camera somberly. Her stern features resembled theirs despite the difference in age. Zuko studied it, not daring to touch it; the card looked old and fragile behind a glass frame. He'd seen a similar photograph of his parents, when they'd looked young and carefree enough to pose for a photographer. _Odd_, he thought, noting that Katara and her brother looked hardly younger than in the recent picture of them together. _Well, if electricity just reached Skaguak, maybe box cameras just did, too._

* * *

"So," Suki began, handing her a dish. Katara took it, drying it with the towel she held, and felt a blush rise to her cheeks. _Here we go_. "How'd you meet?"

"It's not like that, Suki." Katara stared at the dish in her hand.

"What's that – a blush? Our little Katara has something to blush about?"

"_Suki_!" Katara glanced to the sitting room, relaxed when she saw Zuko standing by the mantle, looking at the photographs displayed there. "No, I have nothing to blush about," she whispered furiously.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing." She paused, took another dish from Suki. "Yet."

Their eyes met and they both giggled conspiratorially. Katara felt Suki's affection wrapping around her, warming her like her brother's hugs. They quieted and continued, washing and drying, until Suki sighed.

"I don't know, Katara," she said quietly, so quietly that Katara had to strain to hear her. "He feels odd, somehow…"

Suki's words chilled Katara, though they didn't surprise her. "I know," she finally replied. "There's _something_… he hasn't talked about his past at all and I know there's something there… but he's not a threat." She stared at the plate in her hand, flames roaring in her memory, drowning the remembered screams. "Believe me, I'd know if he was."

* * *

"Take care of yourself, Katara." Suki embraced her, the sister Katara had never had, then they parted. "Hopefully, Sokka will be home when you get back."

"Thanks, Suki." Katara smiled. "Keep Skaguak safe while I'm gone."

Suki grinned, then turned to Zuko. She bowed formally, smiling as she straightened. "It was nice to meet you, Zuko."

Zuko bowed in return, a gracious dip to their hostess. "The pleasure was mine."

"Don't stay up too late – it's a long walk to Iroh's way-station."

"We won't," Katara called over her shoulder as she and Zuko began walking. She heard the door close, and the night swallowed them. They walked through the dark street, a comfortable silence still between them.

Katara finally broke that silence as they neared the Golden Peaks. "We need to get an early start. Do you need a wake-up call?" She looked sideways at Zuko, studied his profile in the dim light. The side of his face towards her was smooth, aristocratic, with a strong brow and firm chin.

"No."

Katara nodded. "Okay, I'll knock on your door when I'm ready, and we'll get going."

"I'll be ready."

* * *

True to her word, Katara knocked on his door early the next morning, just after sunrise. Zuko closed his stretch and opened the door.

"Here," Katara thrust a paper-wrapped package into his hand. "Eat this and let's get on our way. Is your bag all packed?" Zuko pointed to where it leaned against the wall. "Good." She grabbed his trunk and dragged it towards the door. "I already ate. It looks like a good day for traveling," she called over her shoulder.

"Good morning," Zuko said to the empty room. He unwrapped the package to find what looked like fried eggs sandwiched between thick brown bread. He bit into it.

"Is that everything?" Katara asked, returning. "You're all dressed? How do your boots feel?"

Zuko gestured while he finished chewing and swallowing. "Fine," he said.

"Well, if they feel too tight or if they're rubbing any where, make sure you adjust them. You'll probably get blisters today whatever you do, but if you pay attention to your feet they won't be too bad."

Katara breezed out of the room again before he could remind her that she'd told him the same thing yesterday. Zuko sat down by the window and continued eating his breakfast. Clattering and rustling noises floated to his room from the hall.

The noises stopped as he finished the sandwich, and Katara reappeared in his room. "Ready?" she asked. Zuko nodded and stood, and Katara heaved his bag up to the bed before he could reach for it. He shrugged his shoulders into it and let her fuss with the straps, pulling here and loosening her. "Is this too tight?" she asked, and he shook his head, watching her work. "Okay, you can stand up."

Zuko leaned forward and the bag followed; he bounced a little on his toes and felt it settle, the weight resting on his hips. Katara stepped up to fuss with the strap across his chest and he thought about how neatly her head would fit under his chin, how she would feel pressed up against him. Warmth flooded him and he pushed it away.

Katara stepped back and looked at him. "How's that feel?" she asked.

Zuko cleared his throat, didn't meet her eyes. "Fine."

Katara flashed a smile at him and turned back to the doorway. "I'll get mine, and then we're off!" Zuko watched her jog down the hall, then surveyed the room one last time. _We're off_, he thought.


	4. Howling for the Moon

**Chapter 4: Howling for the Moon**

posted June 26, 2009

* * *

_Author's Note_: This chapter is dedicated to Egyptian Kat, who made awesome fanart for this story (which is linked from my profile). Thank you -- and I'm delighted to know that this story is such an inspiration!

* * *

The sun filtered through the thick canopy, making the trail a shady tunnel through the green. Birds called from the forest's depths, and distantly Katara heard the roar of Fox Falls.

"This trail was built during the gold rush," Katara explained. "It was a trading route for as long as my people remember, but the prospectors realized that it was the easiest way to get to the Kuyon goldfields." She looked sideways at Zuko. He had walked steadily all morning, matching her pace without trouble.

"It's still the best trail inland to Deadhorse," she continued. "I hear that the government wants to build roads or a train inland to open up the Territories, but I don't think they can do it." Sokka had started to read the article aloud to her, lots of fine words about defending the Commonwealth's boundaries against another war, but Katara had cut him off. _They just want the last of our land_, she'd said, and Sokka had stayed silent.

"Why not?" Zuko asked, breaking her recollection.

"What? Oh." Katara gathered her thoughts. _Every time I think I'm just talking to myself_… "Inland is even wilder than the coast," she finally replied. "Here, we have the sea to connect us together without having to go overland. My tribe rarely went through the forest or the mountains – we used canoes or walked along the shore. The trails developed mostly during the gold rush, but they were just to connect the mines to the nearest ports." She gestured. "Inland, there's nothing but forest and mountains, and any supplies have to be hauled in by foot overland. Then, the further south you go, the colder it gets, until the land is always frozen." She shrugged. "I've never seen a train, but I imagine it'd be hard to build over frozen ground."

Katara tipped her head and looked at Zuko. "You said you'd ridden on a train…" she trailed off, making it a question that he didn't have to answer. She thought he wouldn't, but then he spoke, softly at first.

"I've ridden on lots of trains. It's hard not to. Back h – back east, they're like boats are here, I guess. They're just how you get around." Zuko paused and Katara tried to project interest, hoping he'd continue. "I rode the train across the country to Sheng Zìyóu, about four years ago. They have cable cars there, like small trains for going up hills."

"They were talking about putting a cable car in Skaguak for a little while, back when the town was larger –" Katara cut herself off. "You know, if I'm talking too much, you can tell me, I won't mind."

"I don't mind," Zuko said after a pause.

Katara felt relief wash over her. "Oh good. I was worried that I was bothering you – I'm used to having to describe everything for tourists, and I couldn't tell if I was boring you."

"You're not boring me," Zuko replied, meeting her eyes briefly. "I'm just used to traveling alone."

* * *

They made camp that evening as the sun slid up the hills and twilight fell in their valley.

Katara had a small fire built and a pot heating over it almost before Zuko had shrugged off his pack. She said something about dinner before disappearing into the woods, and Zuko, at a loss, began to set up camp.

He stood, staring at the tent unrolled before him, when Katara returned, holding two slender fish by their gills. He heard her soft laughter – "Let me set these over the fire and I'll come help" – as he tried to make sense of the poles and pockets and the mass of thin canvas. He nearly gave up before she joined him, kneeling at its edge.

"You need to stake it out, first, and then set up the poles, like this…" With Katara's help the tent rose smoothly and soon they settled the final tarp over its peak.

"Thank you," Zuko said quietly. Katara smiled at him, a quick, warm expression, and then turned back to the fire. He followed, settling himself cross-legged a comfortable distance from the fire as she checked the fish, butterflied and roasting over the flames. The pot simmered gently and he smelled rice cooking.

Katara sat back. "Almost done," she declared. "How are your feet? Any blisters?"

Zuko stretched his legs out, flexed his toes. "Fine," he replied. "A little sore, but fine." He was inwardly pleased with his stamina; he hadn't stretched himself like this in months, hadn't shouldered a pack in years, but he felt only pleasantly tired.

"I'm glad to hear it." She smiled again, then rose again to rummage through her pack.

"Do you…" Zuko started. "Do you need help setting up your tent?"

Katara glanced up at him before pulling a bedroll from her pack. "I'm not setting up a tent tonight." She looked up at the sky. "It's not going to rain, and I'd rather watch the stars than the top of a tent."

"Oh." Zuko considered this, glancing at his own tent, while Katara shook out her sleeping bag.

She turned back to the fire and checked the fish again. "Perfect. Hand me your bowl and we'll eat."

_Perfect_, Zuko silently agreed when he'd finished the meal. "Thank you for dinner," he said aloud, and waited for her smile. He was not disappointed.

"You're welcome – but it's your turn tomorrow." She said it lightly, and then stretched, hands over her head. "We should get an early start. Do you need me to wake you up?"

"No," Zuko replied, standing and stretching himself. "I rise with the sun."

"Okay…" Her expression held skepticism, but Zuko held firm. "Good night."

"Good night," he replied as he neared his tent.

As he settled into his bedroll, he heard a low, moaning noise, soon joined by another, higher tone. _Wolves_, Zuko thought, a thrill of fear running up his spine before he pushed it down. Other calls, nearer and farther, joined the first and when he finally fell asleep he dreamed of predators unseen in the woods.

* * *

"Zuko?"

Silence greeted her, and Katara sighed. _Typical_, she thought. _They always _say_ that they'll wake up at dawn, but do they ever?_

"Zuko?" she called again, and again received no response.

Katara sighed again and reached for the tent flap. _I hope you sleep naked_, she thought as she pushed it aside and entered the tent.

Zuko lay on his stomach in his bed roll, arms folded under his head, his jacket bundled up as a pillow. He wore a loose linen undershirt, to her disappointment. _Down, girl_, she thought.

"Zuko," she said. "Time to wake up." She reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder, shook lightly.

Without warning, he grabbed her wrist and twisted it around behind her, pulling her backwards. Caught off balance, she fell against his chest as his other arm wrapped around her neck, the crook of his elbow against her throat.

Katara froze and resisted her instinct to fight back, to flip him over and drive the life out of him. _Just stay still_, she thought. _He's probably still asleep_. She could feel the panic rolling off him, his heart pounding, his breath heavy on her neck. She felt warmth against her back, then a sharper heat on her face. She turned her head and saw flames licking from Zuko's hand, stretching from his fist like a dagger. Then he inhaled sharply and the flames died; he released her and she heard him settle back.

"Sorry, sorry…"

Katara turned to see Zuko kneeling on his bedroll, eyes downcast and running a hand nervously through his hair. "You're a bender!" she exclaimed.

He looked up at her, surprise spread across his face.

"It's okay – I am too." Katara gestured, and the condensation in the tent collected in a pool above her outstretched palm. She spun it into a disc, then tossed her hand towards the tent's opening. The water flew out and dissipated into fine droplets.

Zuko just stared, first at the water, then at her. She returned his gaze steadily, trying not to smile at his bewildered expression.

"So…" she said finally. "Light sleeper?"

Zuko ran a hand down his face. "Katara, I'm sorry. I –"

"Don't worry about it. You said you were used to traveling alone." She dismissed it with a wave. "I should have been more careful." She smiled brightly at him. "So, breakfast?"

* * *

"Are there other benders where you're from?" Katara asked. She had run out of her stock conversation topics and while the silence between them remained comfortable, she remembered the warm rapport they'd shared at the Whitehorse Saloon only two nights previous.

She noted the way that Zuko stiffened at her question, a stumble interrupting his steady gait. She felt his hesitation and she picked the conversation back up herself.

"Toph says there're more benders up here than where she's from. She says that hardly anyone bends back East. She said something about it being considered _primitive_." Katara snorted, feeling Zuko's uneasiness, some past terror coloring the emotions roiling from him. "My tribe was _proud_ of its benders. But Toph says that people back east say that _we're_ primitives; that we're hardly better than animals, so maybe benders just fit naturally into the Southern Territories."

Zuko remained silent, but his pace steadied and after a few moments Katara gave him another prompt. "What's bending _fire_ like?"

He paused before speaking, so long that Katara wondered if he would answer, if he'd heard her at all. "What do you mean?"

Katara grinned to herself, pleased by the response. "Well, water is… cool. Soothing. And it _flows_." She frowned a little, struggling with the explanation. "It connects me to the land, and everything that lives on it, because the land is connected to the water, and I'm connected to the water." She spread her hands wide. "I guess it's harder to describe than I thought."

Zuko lifted a hand in front of him, palm up; as Katara watched, flame sprang from it. "Fire is everywhere," he said slowly. She felt him relax further. "It runs through the air, and the earth, and everything around us. You just have to know how to call it." He moved his hand through the air; the flames grew, trailed behind his hand in an arc as he brought it sharply up, then out, and finally down. The flames died, and Katara heard him breathe deeply, exhaling through his nose. "It took me a long time to understand that. I thought it came from power, from anger, from inside myself, but it doesn't."

Katara nodded, then saw Zuko frown. "Sorry, that doesn't really make any sense," he said, but she cut him off.

"No – it does." She moved her hand through the air, mirroring his earlier gesture slowly. Water collected in her hand, pulled from the damp morning air. "I didn't just conjure this water; it was there and I _called_ it." She smiled, cupping the water in both her hands and staring into it. "I hadn't thought of it that way before."

Beside her, she saw Zuko smile softly, hesitantly, and she felt the rapport seep back into the space between them.

* * *

Zuko made dinner that night, lighting the fire with a sweep of his arm. He boiled water and simmered dried meat and vegetables he'd carried in his bag; when Katara returned to camp, he tucked the tubers she offered into the coals, using the tips of his fingers to position them.

"You're a surprisingly good cook," Katara commented as they ate.

"Thanks," Zuko responded. He kept his expression neutral.

Katara smacked her forehead with her palm. "That came out wrong. Zuko, thank you for making dinner. It's very good, and just what I wanted after walking all day." She smiled at him before taking another bite.

_Come on, Zuko. You know she's curious, and she's not going to ask._ He swallowed and cleared his throat. "I worked in a restaurant. For a little while. Well, a while."

"Really?"

"Yeah. In Sheng Ziyou. I mostly waited tables, but I helped out in the kitchen sometimes."

Katara nodded, clearly encouraging him to continue.

"One of the cooks was a great guy; he always reminded me of Uncle Iroh. He taught me some basics, like how to hold a knife, how to keep a pot from boiling over." Zuko smiled at the memory, staring into the fire. "I guess I was pretty useless when I started working there, but I was determined to learn."

They finished their dinner as the fire burned low. Zuko jumped when Katara spoke. "Do you want help setting up your tent?"

He looked up at the sky. Dusk gave way to dark and the first stars already shown. "Is it going to rain?" he asked.

Katara shook her head.

"I think I'll sleep outside tonight, then." He feared she'd think him presumptuous, but she grinned and nodded.

"I'll take care of the dishes if you take care of the fire," she said, standing. Zuko nodded and handed her his bowl. He turned to the fire as she left the clearing and concentrated. The fire burned low, the flames shrinking, and he though of darkness, the cool blackness of evening falling over the land and dampening it until morning. He breathed out slowly, expelling all the air from his body and holding it, empty, for a moment before inhaling and opening his eyes.

The campfire lay black and lifeless against the ground, not even smoking. Zuko stood and scattered the dead coals in the dirt, remembering Katara's actions the night before. His chore accomplished, he found his pack, dug his bedroll out, and spread it a small distance from where the fire had been. He sat back on it and started easing his boots off.

Katara returned to find him examining the hot spots on his heels in the fading light. "Blisters?" she asked.

"Yeah. They aren't bad, though."

"Let me see?"

Zuko looked at her skeptically, but she seemed serious. He leaned back and extended his foot. To his surprise, she bent water out of her canteen and coiled it around his heel. "What are you doing?"

"I have some healing abilities. It comes from waterbending." He watched her concentrate, her brow furrowing as her hands moved. The mild burning sensation faded under the water and he relaxed minutely.

"Better?" she asked, and he nodded. "How's the other one?"

"I think it could use your healing touch. If you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all." She moved her hands to his other foot and Zuko felt the burning subside there, as well.

"Do you do this for all your clients?" he asked as she withdrew the water, scattering it away into the woods.

"Only the ones I like." He sensed her smile despite the deepening twilight and something about her tone made him think she was blushing.

"Thank you," he said, suddenly uncomfortable with the conversation's intimacy. He arranged his boots under his pack and settled back onto his bedroll. A short distance away, he heard Katara rustling around as she settled in as well, and then quiet fell over their camp. More stars appeared, lighting the narrow gap of sky between the trees.

Zuko had nearly fallen asleep when a howl rent the air, louder than those he'd heard last night. He half-sat up in surprise, and he heard Katara stir in response. "Katara?" he asked, keeping his voice low and feeling childish for his fear. "They won't attack us, will they?"

She stayed silent and Zuko thought that she'd slept through the noise when she finally replied. "No. You don't have to worry about the wolves." He saw her sit up, nearly invisible against the darkness, and he thought she raised her hands to her mouth. Then she _howled_, sounding so much like the distant wolf that he felt terror run up his spine despite knowing that it was _Katara_, his new friend – his _only_ friend – making that unearthly noise. Her voice ululated and then she trailed off. Silence lay over the night for a moment, then the distant wolf responded, a second and third howl joining the first.

"What did you tell them?" Zuko whispered. He heard her shrug in the dark.

"Wolves have their territories, just like people. I let them know that we're passing through tonight." He heard her lay back down and he stared at her dark shape for a moment before he lay back as well.

Though he thought he'd never sleep after that other-worldly chorus, Zuko found himself relaxing almost as soon as he settled back into his bedroll. He gazed up at the stars for a moment, then surrendered to sleep.

* * *

"… so now, all I have to do is say 'Secret Tunnel,' and his eye starts twitching."

Zuko surprised himself by laughing aloud. By the look on Katara's face, he'd surprised her, too, and they both stopped walking to laugh together.

"I almost died, it was so funny." Katara wiped her eyes, still laughing. She started walking again, a broad smile on her face, and Zuko followed. The sun warmed the air, making the afternoon pleasant after a chilly morning; he felt well-rested and like he had a purpose on the trail. He glanced at the woman walking beside him; she gazed off into the valley below them, a smile still shaping her lips. He stumbled and dropped his eyes; the loose stones beneath his feet shifted, the path narrowing beside a slumping hillside.

"My uncle once – years ago – he kept trying to teach me the sugi horn."

"Oh? This should be good."

"Yeah. I'm… not very musical, and he –"

"Wait." Katara stopped abruptly; she raised her arm and he stopped just before it bumped his chest. "Something's wrong." Zuko dropped his pack and shifted his weight, raising his arms and bending his knees as he turned away from Katara; at the edge of his vision, he saw her scanning the woods. He turned at a sound behind them, only to see a few pebbles tumbling down the bare hillside; he relaxed his defensive stance and turned back to Katara, about to reassure her.

As he turned, though, he saw Katara's eyes widen in terror. "Run!" she yelled, and Zuko felt her shove him forward. He staggered and heard a roar behind him; he saw rocks sliding down the hillside, surrounded by earth, and heard Katara yell again. Something hard and heavy struck his back and pain blossomed along his spine, then the roaring faded as the world went black.

* * *

Katara finally felt the earth stop shifting around her. _Where's Toph when I really need her?_ she thought, trying to control her panic as she scrambled through dirt and rocks and branches. She slipped her arms out of her pack and fought her way to the surface; she finally cleared the sand from over her head and pulled herself out of the rubble.

Zuko lay a short distance from her, only half-buried but worryingly still and silent. She _reached_ and felt his heartbeat as she leapt to his side, but it felt far too weak and fast. _Please be okay.._. Katara fought panic again as she carefully drew him out of the rubble, pulling his arms over his head to keep it stable. Free of the debris and on his back, Zuko lay still as death. She leaned over his face, turning her head, but felt no breath, no inhale and exhale that signaled life.

"Oh, Yue," she whispered.

Deep scratches decorated his forehead and unscarred cheekbone, sharp against his paling skin; blood seeped from a cut on his lower lip. She reached for his canteen, still attached to his pack, mercifully unburied beside the rubble. Her hands shook as she tried to unscrew its lid, but finally the water snaked free. She smoothed it over his body, spreading it across his chest and down his sides, trying to feel beyond the skin and around the bones, into the organs she knew lay packaged under the surface. His heartbeat had grown weaker in the short time since she'd pulled him out, and Katara felt it start to slow. Cold spread through her limbs, the despairing cold of a freezing winter fog that shrouds the woods. _This is bad_, she thought. _This isn't like healing a cut or a blister. I don't know if I can…_

Katara looked up at Zuko's face, somber and somehow guarded even when unconscious; she reached out, placed a hand along his cheek. "I don't know if I can help you…" she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut against the tears. She silently cursed the Shadow-Catchers again, for taking away her birthright and those who would have been her teachers; she cursed her people for slowly vanishing and leaving her to wonder who she was; she cursed her own lack of knowledge, the training she never had; and she cursed her blood that –

Her blood.

Her eyes flew open involuntarily and Katara felt hope flood through her, circulating through her body and banishing the cold. She glanced at Zuko, deathly still and silent, then pulled herself into a sitting position. She cradled his head on her lap, and fumbled for her knife. "I really hope you don't remember this," she muttered. "And I really hope it works."

She pulled her knife sharply across the heel of her hand, biting back a gasp at the flash of pain, and leaned forward, carefully positioning her hand so that the blood ran down it from the cut, dripping into Zuko's mouth. She shivered, both repulsed and fascinated by the sight, by her very life essence flowing into his body.

"Yue, please help me…"

She closed his mouth with her unscathed hand, massaging his throat to make him swallow; then angled her hand so that more blood flowed into him. She made him swallow again and reached out – _how much does it take?_ she wondered – but the cut was already healing over, the blood flow tapering to nothing. Zuko remained motionless, the distant beat of his heart slowed to the faintest throb.

She lost track of time as she touched his face gently, stroked her hand through his hair. She traced the sharp line of his cheekbone, his nose, the swoop of his eyebrow, but she avoided the scarred flesh on the left side of his face; it didn't seem hers to take without his knowledge, without his permission. His hair was soft under her fingers, fine and dark and deeply reddish, but he didn't respond to her light touches and she squeezed her eyes shut. "Don't leave me now; we've hardly begun…" she whispered, and opened her eyes to see that night had fallen.

Moonlight flooded the broken landscape around them as a waxing moon rose over the ridges, cutting low through a pass between peaks, and suddenly she felt Zuko's heart contract. Katara held her breath, hardly daring to hope, as she felt the movement again, stronger, and then she felt her own blood running slowly through his veins. The heartbeat strengthened, steadied, and then she felt his body start to heal itself from the inside, torn membranes sealing back together as shards of bone fused and retreated to their proper positions.

Zuko's chest suddenly rose and he drew in a shuddering breath, and Katara looked up to see the moon sailing over the trees, rising gracefully into the clear night sky. "Thank you, Yue," she whispered, and she heard a distant howl. The wolf's voice carried sympathy and with it a query, and she took strength from her distant clansman as she howled a short answer. _It's okay_, she thought, and felt tears of relief spill down her cheeks. She looked down at Zuko, his head in her lap and his body still spread awkwardly along the ground. _It's okay_.

She stayed still, listening to his soft breathing, as the moon journeyed smoothly through the night.


	5. Fighting Nightmares

**Chapter 5: Fighting Nightmares**

posted July 10, 2009

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_Author's Note_: This chapter is dedicated to those of you who are becoming heart-warmingly loyal followers of this story, especially J, SkyeVerya, Eralynn, and Egyptian Kat (who drew another lovely fanart now linked on my profile). Thank you for your kind words, and I'm very glad you're enjoying the ride.

* * *

Zuko awakened slowly. Heat consumed him; a sharp, throbbing heat that washed over his body in waves. He shifted, turning his head, trying to escape it; he tried to open his eyes but searing light blinded him. Panic crawled through his insides like a living thing and he tried to raise his arms, bend fire at his unseen enemy, but they seemed restrained against his chest. He kicked his legs out, trying to roll into a defensive stance, but they caught in unseen bonds and he lurched backwards. The panic broke, flooding his veins with fire and he struggled, suddenly feeling the earth closing over him, flames breaking over the rupturing ground, screams ringing against the blazing night.

He thrashed, arching his back and straining against the restraint; he had to fight, he would _never_ give up without a fight, and –

Something soft shifted across his chest. Cool air washed over him. He relaxed involuntarily, inhaling deeply and smelling not burning earth but the fresh green scent of fir trees.

The waves of heat continued to retreat and Zuko chanced opening his eyes again, tilting his head back away from the sun. This time, he saw grass and rocks and a distant blur that might have been a valley; he blinked, and the image cleared. Katara sat a few feet away, leaning back against an ancient log, a cup of tea forgotten beside her. Her head slumped backwards and Zuko thought he heard a faint snore from her open mouth.

He watched her for a moment, taking deep breaths to banish the lingering nightmare. _Trapped by my own bedroll_, he thought ruefully, and let his head fall back.

The movement was a mistake; his head throbbed, now that the panic had receded, and his mouth tasted foul, metallic. He remembered a roaring sound, Katara's shout and her shove, and then blackness. He winced and raised a hand to rub his eyes; his skin felt gritty, and he still felt too hot in the bright sunlight.

He opened his eyes again and saw Katara looking back at him, blinking. Her eyes, framed by dark lashes and bronzed skin, seemed bluer than the sky, bluer than the shimmering wings of a rare butterfly seen long ago in his mother's conservatory, and he stared up at her, entranced. She stared back, and Zuko felt the heat return despite the breeze.

"Hi," he finally said, unsure of what else to say.

"Hi," she responded. She tilted her head to the side, still watching him. "How do you feel?"

Zuko blinked. He worked his mouth, swallowed. "Okay. My head hurts. And I'm thirsty."

"Oh. Good." Zuko saw her turn away, heard her rummaging around, then she was at his side, close enough that he could touch her face with his fingertips, if he reached; if he dared.

"Here." She handed him his canteen, water sloshing within.

He propped himself up on his elbows, took the canteen. "What happened?" he asked, before sipping cautiously.

"The hillside slid – you were caught in it. I think a rock hit you – well, I know that a rock hit you; a lot of rocks hit you. You were pretty banged up." Katara paused, watching him again for a moment. "I closed up your wounds with waterbending, and I've been waiting for you to wake up on your own."

"Oh." Zuko drank again, deeper this time. "Thank you." The water was cool and he felt it all the way to his core; his stomach growled softly.

"I should have known that the hillside was unstable. It was so obvious, but I…" she trailed off, dropping

her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said softly.

Zuko levered himself up into a sitting position, knees bent and arms resting on them. "It wasn't your fault. And I'm fine." He stretched his back, winced. "Just a little sore. And covered in dirt." He tried to let humor seep into his tone, and saw her smile softly before looking back up at him. He smiled in return and watched her expression deepen.

"Well," she started, before he could lose himself in her eyes again. "If you want to bathe in the river, I'll make breakfast."

"River?" he asked.

She gestured and Zuko looked for the first time beyond their hasty camp. The shrubs and tall grasses bordering the forest gave way to smooth stones a few yards away, sloping down to rippling water. He squinted, looking out over a wide river that wound through a floodplain, stretching to distant grey-blue peaks. "Oh." He looked down at himself, dirt smudging his arms. His legs felt grimy inside his sleeping bag. "Okay."

Zuko watched Katara rummage through her pack for a moment, then pulled himself up. He stretched carefully, noting the tension across his back, the pull of tight muscles over his ribs. He rubbed them idly, noted how curling wisps of hair had fallen from Katara's braids; he liked the way they framed her face.

"Here," she said, interrupting his idle thoughts. She held out a paper-wrapped bundle and he reached to take it. Their hands brushed slightly in the exchange and Zuko felt his fingers tingle at the contact. "It's soap," she said, before he could ask.

Zuko looked at the package in his hand, blinking again. "Thanks."

"Could you…" Katara started, and Zuko stared down at her. "Could you start the fire before you go?" she finished.

"Oh," he said, feeling slow and thick. "Sure."

A deep breath and a sweep of his hand caught the piled branches aflame, and Katara smiled at him in gratitude before she bent water into one of the pans sitting by the fire. Zuko watched her, long graceful hands moving smoothly through the air; he shook his head and turned towards the river, walked down the sloping bank. The smooth rocks shifted under his bare feet as he picked his way carefully upstream.

The sun warmed his back when he stopped and turned to make sure Katara was out of sight around a bend in the river. Satisfied, he stripped off his clothes, moving carefully against the sore muscles, and dropped them on the riverbank. A breeze tickled his bare skin, and he closed his eyes to center himself before wading into the water.

Icy cold shocked him to the core and he raised his internal fires to balance the sensation. He stepped carefully out over a sandbar, then stopped, knee-deep in swift shallow water. _Not even firebending will keep me warm if I go in all the way_, Zuko thought. He scooped water into his hands and warmed it before sluicing it down his back, wetting himself thoroughly. The soap lathered easily in the clear water and as he rinsed, dirt floated away with the suds. His hair especially seemed to have trapped a mountain's worth of sand and he washed it twice.

_How do waterbenders bathe_? he wondered – did they bother with a tub or a pool or could they clean themselves using their bending alone? He thought of Katara and pictured her in the water beside him, bending it up and around her with graceful motions.

He shook his head. _Why am I thinking about her so much this morning_? he wondered.

Feeling cleaner than he had since leaving Skaguak, Zuko waded back to the shore and scooped up his discarded clothing; he scrubbed and rinsed it as thoroughly as he had his skin, then pulled the dripping shirt over his head. Shivering, he heated his skin and steamed the shirt – and his hair – dry. He did the same for his pants, then made his way back to the camp, a chill in his bones despite the warm morning sunlight.

Katara sat near the fire, leaning once more against a fallen log, silver with age. She'd re-braided her hair, he noticed, and wondered briefly how it looked loose around her shoulders, rippling down her back. She looked up and smiled and Zuko felt something inside him twist pleasantly. "How was the river?" she asked.

"Cold," he responded. "But I feel a lot better."

"I'm glad. Tea?"

"Please." Zuko settled himself on the log, a proper distance from her.

She poured herself a cup as well and they sat in silence as breakfast cooked, Katara occasionally leaning over to stir something that sizzled and smelled divine. Zuko closed his eyes and enjoyed the light breeze flowing over him. His body temperature had settled and he felt comfortable again.

"Zuko, look," Katara said softly. Zuko opened his eyes, followed her gesture. A bird perched on his pack at the opposite side of camp, brilliant blue and black feathers shimmering in the sun. It cocked its head at them, the fluttered a few feet to perch on the fallen log.

"It's a Xing's jay," Katara explained and Zuko nodded. The bird crowed as if in response, a harsh cackle. It hopped down to the ground, watching the two humans warily. Zuko heard more crowing from the nearby forest, then a second and a third jay landed in their clearing.

Katara laughed softly as the first jay hopped closer, seeming to inspect the food cooking over the fire. "This isn't for you, cousin," she said to the bird. It regarded her with bright black eyes, seeming to consider her words, and then cackled again.

"You think I haven't heard that before?" she asked. She laughed as a fourth, fifth, and sixth jay arrived, all seeming to watch the first. "There's plenty of food in the forest. Go eat bugs and leave us our breakfast." The jay chirped, softer than its previous noises, and she flapped her hands at it. "Go on." It watched her for a moment longer, then flew off. The other jays followed and Katara sat back against the log again, smiling.

"Was it talking to you?" Zuko asked.

Katara shrugged. "It wasn't _talking_, talking. Not in words." She paused, then smiled. "But couldn't you tell what it _wanted_?"

Zuko had no answer, so he dropped his eyes to avoid staring at her again.

* * *

"You're sure you're feeling okay?"

Katara watched Zuko anxiously, noting the slight stiffness to his gait. He paused before answering, but she sensed no irritation.

"… I would still rather walk than sit idle, waiting to feel better."

"So, you're feeling okay, then?"

"… Yes."

Katara nodded, satisfied (_for now_, she admitted to herself), and turned her attention back to the trail. The landscape grew sharper, steeper; the trail narrower as they climbed from the river plain back into the forest. Trees closed around them, tall peaks visible far above, a stream raging down the ravine beside them.

"Iroh's way-station is the last real stop on the trail before the pass," Katara finally said, just to break the silence again. "The trail gets very steep just beyond it." She saw Zuko nod, felt his fatigue and faint anxiety. _I'm feeling him so strongly today_, she thought, the pull of his blood mixed with hers tugging at her senses, and she wished once again that she understood that wildness running through her veins.

Katara wistfully pushed the thought from her mind and tried to distract Zuko, describing her first journey over the pass, how the wild landscape stretched below as far as she could imagine.

* * *

Darkness fell softly on their camp that night, the fire crackling softly and throwing shadows around the clearing. Katara watched it idly, paying more attention to the man sitting a short distance from her. She felt his exhaustion, but also the underlying strength that pulsed through him, similar to the flames before them, and an odd hesitance as he watched the fire. She wondered how much control over it he had, if he could make the flames flicker in shapes and patterns, or if he could only call and guide it where he wished.

"Katara?" Zuko said softly, startling her.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"What you said about benders before… About them… us… being primitive?"

"Yeah?"

"It's… more complicated than that." He paused, still staring into the fire, and she felt turmoil rise in him, the struggle of tying to express something indescribable. "In the Commonwealth – back East, in the big cities, people think that bending is a… a holdover from the old countries, something that they do in the Earth Kingdoms and the Fire Nation and the Air Territories." He paused again, and looked up at her. "Something that was left behind when they emigrated here."

"That's stupid," she responded, and surprise crossed his face. "_My_ tribe was proud of its benders, and we were always here – long before the Commonwealth came."

Zuko looked back to the fire and frowned, but Katara could feel that it wasn't at her; it was directed at his own inner thoughts that he seemed to be laying out before her.

"Well… there aren't very many benders in the Commonwealth. I've heard – Uncle told me once – that intermarriage between nations mixes the elements." His frown deepened. "He said it usually prevents bending, that the different elements block each other, and a child born of different elements won't be able to control either."

"_You're_ a bender," Katara pointed out. "And you're Commonwealth, right?"

"Oh. Well." He paused again, and Katara thought she saw a blush rise to his face. "My sister and I are both firebenders. My mother was from the Fire Nation, and so is Uncle, but his family emigrated here – to the Commonwealth – when he was very young. My father – Uncle Iroh is his brother – was born here, but my entire family comes from the Fire Nation. A lot of them are firebenders. They are… _proud _of their pure blood."

She felt his derision, clearer in the air than his soft snort, and tried to lighten the conversation. "_My_ blood is pure Water Tribe, and that doesn't seem to mean much to people who come here from back East." She watched him through her lashes, but he didn't smile.

"There's… there's more, Katara." She felt the heaviness of his soft statement, wondered why he was continuing to tell this story that clearly troubled him, at the same time she was grateful for the knowledge of the forces strangling her world.

"During the War…" he paused for so long that Katara wondered if he'd continue. "During the War, the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdoms fought each other. There were thousands of ordinary troops, but it became a fight between _benders_. Mostly earthbenders and firebenders… the Air Territories are so isolated that they weren't drawn into it, and there are very few waterbenders across the ocean…" He paused again and Katara bit her tongue to keep from asking about other waterbenders; she knew somehow that if she interrupted now, he wouldn't continue.

"The Commonwealth allied itself with the Earth Kingdom, and the Fire Nation became the enemy – _firebenders_ were the enemy – and they did _terrible_ things. The Commonwealth armies were just… _caught_… between the earthbenders and the firebenders." The emotions roiling off him were so strong Katara felt that if she were a normal woman, just a girl like those who arrived every week on steamers and schooners, she would_ still_ have felt his submerged terror. "It was… horrible."

He closed his eyes. "People back east don't think benders are primitive so much as… _savage_. People in the Commonwealth want to forget that kind of savagery, ignore it, because of what the Earth Kingdoms and the Fire Nation did during the War."

Katara watched him, saw faint images rise before her, shapeless faces and flames; Zuko exhaled deeply and the vision vanished. _Did he_… she wondered, but he spoke again.

"Some people in the government are saying that bending should be outlawed." He raised his hand before Katara could protest, and she bit her tongue again. "They won't – I don't think they _can_ – but the upper classes consider bending… _shameful_. No one wants to be a bender in the Commonwealth any more."

He fell silent and Katara knew somehow that he'd finished, that he'd been offering an explanation of who he was, and it was now up to her to accept it, act on it.

"Well, I'm _not_ Commonwealth," she said firmly. "I'm _Water Tribe_. Bending is part of who we are." She drew water to herself, pulling it from the air and the dew that collected on the grass, spun it around her and into the darkness. "You can't just deny it or _outlaw_ it."

Zuko sat silent, staring up at her, an odd expression of weariness and hope on his face. The fire seemed to crackle a just little more than it had during his halting speech; she could _feel_ his connection to it.

"Thank you, Katara," he said quietly, and she smiled softly at him.

* * *

Later, as Zuko lay in his bedroll, he heard wolves again. This night, the distant howls were almost reassuring, familiar against the quiet sounds of the forest around them, and he drifted easily to sleep.

The howls followed him into his dreams; he saw Katara running with a pack of wolves, somehow the woman he knew and at the same time a wolf. She turned, still running, and looked directly at him, smiling with her full lips and baring her sharp teeth, and then she was a jay staring at him from across a deep green valley. He heard a rumble behind him and looked away from Katara, standing far away in both her worn traveling clothes and brilliant feathers, to see the hillside crumble and rush towards him.

Zuko threw up his arms to protect his head, but the earth yawned open beneath him, terrified faces vanishing into the darkness. He stumbled, staring into a jagged crevice carved into the mud, looked up to a wall of flame racing towards him, consuming the figures silhouetted against it; then the dream shifted – it _always_ shifted – to a harsh voice and fire and pain and blackness…

* * *

Katara jerked, waking herself from the nightmare, a harsh voice and fire and pain and blackness. She opened her eyes to cool darkness; her nightmares were always of fire, but never like _that_… The terror stayed with her, burning in her blood and her memory even as the dream faded. She heard a soft whimper, just a tiny sound of distress against the whisper of fir needles, and Katara remembered herself, her companion. _Zuko_! she thought, and sat up.

She peered through the dark and sensed him asleep a short distance away; as she listened, she heard him twitch, make another small noise; she felt formless fear surging around him, a brief glimpse of flames.

Katara watched him a moment more, then lay back, trying to relax into her bedroll. She closed her eyes and slowed her breathing, feeling her heartbeat follow as she mentally worked through the few waterbending forms she knew. Then she inhaled deeply and _reached_ and felt her own blood flowing through Zuko and caught his heartbeat with hers. She coaxed it to slow, following the path of the river she imagined, flowing endlessly through the stars to the pull of the moon, and she felt him quiet. His breathing softened as he seemed to sigh and relax and fall into a deeper sleep and Katara felt her own rhythms respond. His even breathing lulled her, and they both slept and did not dream.

* * *

Zuko concentrated on placing one foot in front of the other, on moving steadily up the ridge. Yesterday's soreness had faded to today's fatigue, and a headache loomed like the thin clouds filling the sky. Behind him, Katara's footsteps were as light and easy as they had been at the beginning of their journey, and he marveled briefly at her stamina as he strained to match it.

"We can take a break here," she called, and Zuko was tired enough that he only nodded, rather than protesting as he stepped into a small clearing. He leaned back, bracing his pack's weight against a tree; fumbled for his canteen and drank deeply; leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He heard Katara stop nearby, heard her drink from her own canteen as the sweat dried on his brow.

"We're almost there," Katara said after a moment, breaking the silence; Zuko opened his eyes and shifted his weight forward again. The path widened and they walked side by side between thinning trees. Katara touched him lightly on the arm, and Zuko glanced sideways at her. "It'll be fine, Zuko." She smiled, and he tried to smile back. "The first time I met your uncle, he told me that …"

Zuko barely heard the story, Katara's voice fading to a pleasant background hum as he remembered the last time he'd seen his uncle. His sixteen-year-old self hadn't wanted to listen, had tried to shut out Iroh's words. _You have been misled, my nephew. They are not _– but Zuko had cut him off like a petulant child and Iroh had smiled sadly. _My dear nephew_, he'd said, his thick arms wrapping around Zuko's bony shoulders. _You'll find me when you're ready._

Zuko blinked to clear his eyes. _I think I'm ready to listen, Uncle._

Katara's cheerful voice interrupted his anxious speculation. "Here we are!"

* * *

Iroh's way-station hadn't changed since her last trip, weathered and comfortable with its distinctive peaked roof and wide windows. His gardens stretched beyond the building, lush and green with the late spring, but Katara's attention was caught by the door sliding open.

Zuko stiffened beside her as Iroh emerged, stout and dressed in deep reds and browns as always, an earthen jar balanced precariously in one arm. Katara glanced at Zuko and saw him step forward reflexively as the blood drained from his face, replaced by a brief look of – terror? Or was it shame?

Alert as always, Iroh suddenly looked up to smile at Katara, then stopped dead as he saw Zuko. For an instant, neither man moved as Katara felt fear and hope roll off of Zuko. Then Iroh dropped the jar he held and stepped onto the path, and Zuko shrugged his pack off and stumbled towards his uncle, relief clear in his movements, and Iroh swept him up into a deep hug. The older man almost lifted Zuko clear off his feet despite his height, and Katara saw tears of joy run down his face.

"My nephew…" he said softly, as Zuko returned the hug. "My dear nephew…"


	6. The Dragon's Nest

**Chapter Six: The Dragon's Nest**

posted July 24, 2009

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_Author's Note_: There is an illustration relevant to this chapter, titled _Wolf _and linked on my profile. You might want to look at it half-way through the third section of this chapter.

* * *

"Uncle…" Zuko said softly, his eyes closed as he embraced Iroh, so softly that Katara barely heard it. "I'm sorry, Uncle."

Iroh's response was equally quiet, but firm. "There is nothing to beg forgiveness for, my nephew. The journey of becoming a man includes taking your own path at times. But when I heard of the notice –"

Zuko cut him off, an awkward expression on his face as he released Iroh. "I was fine."

"Allow this old man his worry. I lit incense for your safe return every week until the armistice."

"You were always superstitious, Uncle," Zuko responded, the awkwardness fading as Iroh embraced him again.

"And yet, it worked! You have returned safely to me at last!" Iroh released Zuko to thump his back soundly as he beamed and Zuko grinned, hesitant and pleased all at once.

Katara watched their reunion at a safe distance as she soaked up the feelings rolling from them. Both Zuko and Iroh radiated joy and affection; the intensity was almost intoxicating, and she closed her eyes to bask in that warmth.

The emotion narrowed, focused, and Katara opened her eyes to find Iroh turning to her, a proud smile stretched across his face. "I have always known you to be an exceptional young lady, Katara, but I never thought you'd drag this sorry prey in!" He let go of Zuko to clasp Katara's hands in his own, and Katara laughed – "He came to _me_, Iroh" – before he swept her into a hug as well. "Thank you, my dear," he said softly, then released her to clap his hands briskly.

"Where have my manners fled?" he asked rhetorically, then gestured grandly to the way-station. "Please come in – we'll have tea!" Iroh linked his arm through Katara's, and she turned to watch him do the same with Zuko. Their eyes met over Iroh's head and she smiled at Zuko's overwhelmed expression as Iroh led them inside.

* * *

"When I left Ba Sing Sei, Zuko here was a mere boy, a lad of only sixteen! Now, he's a man!" Iroh thumped Zuko soundly on his back just as he took a sip of his tea; Zuko inhaled sharply and then coughed, slapping his hand on the table as Iroh pounded his back.

"Uncle!" he finally sputtered, recovering and waving Iroh's hand away.

Iroh paused a moment before holding the teapot out solicitously. "More tea?"

"Uncle, please – I've had five cups! I don't want more tea!"

Katara watched with interest as Zuko flushed, irritation warring with affection on his face, while Iroh leaned back in his chair and laughed heartily. "Now _there's_ the Zuko I remember."

Zuko glowered, but Katara saw the smile beneath it.

"You two must be weary from your travels – not to mention dusty!" Iroh's smile broadened at their sheepish expressions. "Katara, will you show Zuko the springs? I wish to prepare a meal fit for a family reunion. And for you, too, my dear!"

"If you need help –" she began, but Iroh cut her off.

"No, no." He dropped his head dramatically and held up a hand. "You must leave this old man the few pleasures that remain to him." His smile returned, fox-like, and he clapped his hands. "Now, take your time!"

* * *

The springs lay up a narrow path winding along the hillside from the way-station. _Uncle seems to have not lost his stamina_, Zuko thought as he scrambled up another sharp switchback. "Careful," he heard Katara say as his foot slipped on loose gravel. He twisted and regained his balance instantly, but on impulse, he took the hand she offered and allowed her to steady him as he pulled himself up. Soreness lingered from the trail and the rockslide, but already he could feel it retreating, his agility returning.

Katara stood in front of him as he straightened, so close he felt the heat from her body in the cool evening air. His skin tingled where their hands still met, and he felt a blush rise to his cheeks as he glanced down at her. She smiled and returned to the path, not releasing his hand, and Zuko felt rather like a leaf caught in a stream as he followed her.

He nearly bumped into her when she stopped abruptly, a clearing spread across the hillside before them. A handful of steaming pools were set into the slope, bordered with boulders and lined with river pebbles. Water cascaded from one to the next, a cool stream flowing into the lowest and down the hillside to the distant creek. Sculpted foliage rose beside carefully arranged rockwork, the effect accentuating the pools and creating an aura of peace over the scene. _It's beautiful_, Zuko thought, noting the careful composition, the contrast of opposites in the design, how it blended smoothly into the surrounding forest.

As if in response, Katara spoke. "Iroh told me that he made it like the traditional Fire Nation bathing springs."

"It's better than those in the Fire Nation," Zuko replied without thinking, and Katara's expression brightened with interest.

"You've been to the Fire Nation?" she asked eagerly.

Flames leapt before his eyes, the smell of scorched earth flooding the air, and Zuko wished he could take the words back. "… Once..." he said reluctantly as he fought the memories and reminded himself of the cool air and deep gray-green surrounding him.

Katara watched him closely, some emotion he couldn't name in her blue eyes. _Please, don't…_ he begged silently, but then she seemed to shrug as she turned back to the nearest pool, the largest of the cluster. Zuko slumped in relief, then felt fire flood his veins again as Katara stripped her shirt off, dropping it on a smooth, flat rock set beside the water.

_Sages above_, he thought, trying not to stare but feeling his eyes drawn to her, the curve of her back as she untied her camisole and shrugged out of it. His pulse thundered in his ears as she swept her braided hair up and fixed it in place atop her head, then loosened her belt. _Is she teasing me_? he wondered, his throat dry and unable to look away as she slid her pants off to join the rest of her discarded clothing.

Katara turned slightly to step into the steaming pool and Zuko saw dark lines running along her side, blue ink standing out sharply against the brown of her skin despite the failing light. Distantly, he recognized the pattern from a few signs in Skaguak, a statue in Ba Jin Hu; stylized lines and curves with faces hidden in the outline. _A wolf_, he realized, its head stretched over the curve of her hip, its body graceful along her thigh, its tail curled behind her knee. The lines spread over the powerful shape of her leg, highlighting the smooth muscles as numerous eyes seemed to watch him, and Zuko wrenched his gaze away as she slid into the water.

_Sages_, he thought again and closed his eyes to think of coldness, darkness, the feel of icy water rising up his legs and smothering the fires raging inside him. He thought of forms practiced excruciatingly slow and without bending for hours and calmed his breathing, counted the beats of his heart until they spaced out, and finally opened his eyes again.

Katara watched him over her shoulder, head tilted and arms relaxed at her sides, water lapping at her hips, the smooth brown skin of her back broken only by the tattoo and a band at her neck, and he felt the fires within leap back to life. "Well?" she asked. "Are you coming in?"

_Dear sages_, he prayed, staring determinedly at her face, meeting her gaze. _Save me from myself this night._ He nodded carefully and the sages must have been watching over him because she only arched her brow before turning back to the pool and sinking into the water and settling against a rock.

Zuko sighed in relief, releasing steam with his breath. He pulled his own clothes off and slipped into the spring, clothing himself in its darkness and concentrating on _relaxing_. Katara, blessedly, said nothing, and they watched twilight fall over the valley spread below them.

* * *

"Iroh, this is exquisite as always." Katara selected a third packet of sweet sticky rice, delicately wrapped in broad leaves, and cut the string holding it together.

Iroh smiled paternally. "Nonsense, Katara, you are merely so used to trail rations that my humble cooking seems that of a fine chef."

She grinned as she unwrapped the packet; the interior released steam and a savory aroma. "Well, maybe we should have Zuko cook, then – he worked in a restaurant."

Iroh turned to Zuko, beaming. "Did you, my boy? That's splendid!"

Zuko cleared his throat and stared at his bowl. "I mostly served and cleaned tables, Uncle. My cooking isn't nearly as good as yours."

"Zuko, every path to greatness must begin somewhere, and merely being _near_ the preparation of fine food can be enough for those with talent." Iroh leaned back in his chair, slipping his hands into his wide sleeves and smiling. "I look forward to sampling what you have learned during our separation."

Zuko looked up, met Katara's eyes over the table, and reached quickly for the pan-seared noodles. The faintest blush rose to his cheeks, and his uneasiness washed over her. _Commonwealth and their stupid modesty_, she thought with annoyance, pulling her sticky rice apart with her chopsticks. His embarrassment would be humorous if not for how uncomfortable nudity clearly made him, and she felt a pang of regret for inadvertently baiting him. _At least he it got his mind off the Fire Nation, but now he probably thinks I'm a tease,_ she thought. _Although, if he were to respond_… She caught herself mid-thought. _Down, girl_.

"So tell me, Zuko," Iroh began, leaning forward. "How did it happen that you came to Skaguak?"

Zuko looked up, mouth full of noodles, and swallowed. "I, uh… I came by steamer." He swallowed again, then drank deeply from the mug at his elbow.

"What a coincidence! So did I!" Iroh beamed as Zuko looked awkward. "Where did you catch the steamer, my boy?"

"Ba Jin Hu." Zuko set his mug down. "Before that, I was in Sheng Zìyóu."

"Oh? A lovely city – I remember when the earthquake leveled it, but they seem to have done quite well for themselves since." Iroh paused, seeming to wait for Zuko to respond, then continued. "And how long were you in Sheng Zìyóu?"

"About three years." He paused, drank again, and then seemed to steel himself. "That when I worked in the restaurant. The Emerald Garden."

"It sounds like a splendid establishment! Tell me, how did they make their almond chicken – with toasted almonds or blanched?"

Zuko wrinkled his brow in thought, and Katara watched with amusement as Iroh quickly refilled his mug, then winked conspiratorially at Katara. "Blanched, I think," Zuko finally responded.

Iroh nodded in satisfaction. "Good, good." He leaned forward, inspected Zuko's mug, and frowned. "Zuko, my boy, you've hardly touched your hard cider. Is it not to your liking? I thought last year's pressing was especially good, but perhaps my taste buds are beginning to fail me…"

Zuko's good eye widened almost comically as he glanced at his mug, and Katara had to stifle a giggle. "No, no, uncle – it's very good." He hastily took another deep draught and Iroh met Katara's eye with a sly grin.

"Thank you, Zuko, you were always a kind boy." He turned to Katara. "More cider, my dear? Or would you prefer my cherry brandy?"

"I would walk here just for your cherry brandy, Iroh," Katara said, holding out her glass.

Iroh beamed as he lifted the bottle. "And you, my nephew? Would you care to sample my renowned cherry brandy?"

"Please." Already, Zuko seemed more relaxed, the jittery quality to his emotions subsiding and replaced with warmth, and Katara hid her smile as Iroh poured.

Katara watched over her brandy glass – "I fear that my snifters did not survive the trip here," Iroh had apologized – as the evening passed in pleasant conversation, as Zuko continued to relax and even smile. By the time that Iroh rose and stretched and claimed the fatigue of the elderly, the awkwardness following the hot spring seemed long forgotten.

"Zuko, will you mind sleeping down here?" Iroh asked, gesturing towards the settle nestled between the hearth and the stairs. "Katara must of course take the upstairs room, and I fear that my old bones no longer tolerate the settle like they once did."

Zuko nodded. "Of course, Uncle."

"Thank you, my Nephew." Zuko seemed about to bow formally when Iroh embraced him again. "It is so good to see you again," he whispered, and Katara felt awkward for intruding even as she could not help but overhear, the words as clear in the air as their low heartbeats. _Sometimes_… she thought, but then Iroh turned to her.

"Good night, my dear. It is always a pleasure to see you, but this is an especially felicitous occasion." He smiled warmly and Katara returned the hug. "You well let me know if you need anything?"

"Of course, Iroh," she said, and he smiled again as he turned to his bedroom. Katara looked at Zuko, who already sat on the settle with a sleepy, contented expression, and she felt a rush of affection for him. "Good night," she said softly, and stepped onto the stairs.

"Good night," Zuko said just as softly, and she felt the warmth of his presence long after she nestled into the soft bed.

* * *

Katara stretched, smiling to herself as she noted how high the sun had risen in the sky. A pleasant aroma drifted to her from downstairs as she rose and dressed, splashing her face in the wash basin.

She descended the staircase to the way-station's main floor to find Zuko preparing breakfast, several pans spread on the stove before him and a too-short apron wrapped almost double around his frame. Iroh sat at the table, teacup in hand and pot steaming before him, and smiled warmly at her. "Katara, my dear, how was your sleep?"

"Lovely," she replied, pouring herself a cup of tea. She nodded at Zuko. "Up with the sun again?"

She felt more than saw his flush, and Iroh grinned. "Maybe not _quite_ with the sun this morning."

"If I overslept, it was entirely your fault, Uncle," Zuko muttered, stirring the contents of the pan he tended.

"Well, I overslept, too." Katara stretched again. "I haven't had a leisurely morning in _ages_." She tilted her head. "Iroh, do you mind if I save the usual chores for tomorrow? I'd really like to get down to the river for a little while."

Iroh bowed his head formally. "My dear Katara, your very company is ample compensation for my humble hospitality." He looked towards Zuko, still tending the pans arrayed on the stove. "We should give this lovely lady some space to relax. Zuko, will you join me in tending the bees after breakfast?"

* * *

The sun had risen over the surrounding mountains and forest as Zuko and Iroh walked the path to the orchards. In contrast to the hot springs trail, the orchard path wound through meadow and low forest, sun-dappled and pleasant. Zuko matched Iroh's shorter strides and felt himself relax further, thinking despite himself of Katara's lean form, the blue of her eyes as she watched him from the steaming pool. Heat rose within him at the memory, the challenge and the interest in her look…

Iroh's voice interrupted his recollection and he felt himself flush, just a little. "So, you have left the Guild, as well." The tone made it a statement rather than a question.

His uncle said no more as they walked, and Zuko remembered his warm smiles and embraces from childhood, welcome gestures in a cold household. "When I returned from…" he began, Iroh's non-judgmental silence encouraging him. "When I returned to Ba Sing Sei, I went with Azula and her team. Just a few times." His sister had, in fact, insisted, her voice mocking, that he stop wasting his time at university and resume his Guild duties.

"It felt almost _right_, at first. I _told_ myself that it was right, that it was where I belonged, and the war hadn't changed that." He paused. "I was looking for something that hadn't changed.

"The first few hunts went well. There's a little town, out in the Zhouba Xi Mountains… It'd been attacked, and the xuedai were lurking still... The town was grateful, and it felt _good_. I felt like I had purpose again." The words stuck in his throat; he swallowed, forced himself to speak. "I thought that maybe I'd been wrong to doubt. That maybe… _you'd_ been wrong." He stared at the ground, watched his feet move over the grasses; he couldn't look at Iroh.

"Then… a hunt went bad." The images rose in his mind like a tide, memories of wide, frightened eyes mingled with the burning earth, the sheets of flame sweeping down muddy trenches. He struggled to push them away, wondering if he would ever be free from the memories. Once again, Iroh's silent support gave him the courage to continue.

"I saw innocence in one of them. It was only a child, a frightened child, and I just stared at it. Him." He stopped, struggled with the words, with an idea still too new and painful to define, even after so long. "I realized that this _child_ couldn't have done anything; couldn't be _evil_. It – _he _– was just trapped between armies." He took a deep breath, let it out, tried to ignore the shudder. "Just like I had been."

He said nothing more and they walked in silence, the path leading through a shady copse, swamp plants rising from thick beds of moss. They crossed a stream over a narrow wooden bridge, arched in the Fire Nation style, and finally Iroh spoke again.

"What did you do, nephew?"

He paused, the memories of that night still crisp after nearly four years. "Nothing." The noise, between a scream and a gurgle, echoed in his mind. "Azula killed him right before me, while I stood, staring, and did nothing." The sound of bird song and a gentle breeze filled the air between them as they walked. The memories lingered and he felt impossibly far away from the peaceful meadows around him.

"And so you left?"

Zuko looked up at the peaks that defined the horizon, sharp blue-grey against blue sky and green foliage, foreign and yet familiar. "And so I left."

Iroh paused in his steps and Zuko stopped, unable to face him. Then he felt his uncle's hand on his shoulder, heard his soft voice. "You did well, Zuko."

Zuko closed his eyes. "Thank you, uncle."

After a moment, Iroh's hand dropped and he started forward again and Zuko walked beside him, the silence comfortable, until Iroh spoke suddenly. "Ah! Here we are!"

He pointed to a short, squat wooden box surrounded by bees; the sound seemed oddly loud against the quiet morning. Iroh started forward. "Heat yourself, nephew," he called over his shoulder and Zuko hastily reached for the fire inside him, willing it to flow through his skin and into the surrounding air.

The bees swarmed around Iroh as he approached; as he pulled a tray from the hive, the hum seemed to swell, the noise vibrating through Zuko's ears; he shook his head, hoping to clear it, but the hum remained as Iroh examined the tray, nodded, and slid it back into the hive. He removed another tray and the bees swirled around him furiously, but none dared land on his heated skin. They seemed to relax as he returned the tray to the hive and stepped back. "The bees are capping their honeycombs well this year," he commented with satisfaction, and turned back to Zuko. "Shall we?"

Zuko looked at him with surprise. "That's it?" We came up here for you to just _look_ at it? I thought we were tending the bees!"

"And so we have!" Iroh slid his hands into his sleeves. "Now, did you want to tour the orchards?"

* * *

Katara concentrated on the rush of water, how it poured down the hillside, following the path it had carved itself over countless years. She exhaled deeply and relaxed the small muscles in her back, her hips, leaning into the stance she'd learned long ago. Her spine straightened as she felt how the water fell downward, pulled by the same forces that created the tides and the seasons and the very earth itself, and she pulled air into her lungs and pushed it out, trying to move with those distant currents.

Her arms lay lax at her sides as she sank farther into the stance, feeling the pull of the ocean, the trickle of snowmelt, and the torrent of water coursing between those two sources. _A cycle_, she thought, a never-ending push and pull, and she moved her feet together and raised her arms and _reached_ for that flow.

Katara frowned, eyes still closed, feeling the water slip through her control, the force of it crashing down the mountain too great for her to disrupt, and she moved through the awkward form. _Up, and down, and out, and in, and up, and in, and turn_… She _reached_ again, willing her whole body to harness that relentless torrent, and she felt something _twist_ and suddenly come free. She opened her eyes to see a narrow ribbon of water snaking from the creek, shimmering in the sunlit air, and she laughed aloud. _I did it_, she thought, looping it around herself as she continued the form; she pulled it close into a tight spiral, pushed it out to brush the trees surrounding her clearing. _I did it!_

She lost track of time as she practiced, reveling in the freedom she felt from the bending, from this new control over the mountain creek. The sea always responded, pliant to her wishes, gentle in a way that the distant ocean would never be, but waters that wound through the mountains had remained elusive, unwilling to follow the path she carved through the air, and –

"Now there's a sight I haven't seen in some time!" Iroh's voice shattered the silence and with it her concentration; the water splashed down, soaking Katara and the earth below her. She looked up and found Iroh grinning at her from the path, Zuko watching with something _more_ on his face, but she felt too flustered to read the emotion.

"Iroh! Zuko!" she squeaked, then clapped her hands over her mouth.

Iroh composed his expression, sliding his hands into his sleeves as he stepped forward. "My apologies, Katara, for interrupting."

She looked down at herself. Water dripped from her hair, her clothes, and she tried to remember how it felt to direct it wherever she wished. "It's okay."

"It does seem, though…" he trailed off and she squinted at him. Beside him, Zuko frowned, also watching his uncle. "Your form appeared to be a basic defensive maneuver, but it was… lacking something." Katara felt herself bristling, but then Iroh smiled brilliantly. "Might I suggest that you spar with my nephew here? There's no offensive quite like that of firebending."

She glanced at Zuko, who seemed flushed. "Uncle –" he began, but Iroh cut him off.

"Splendid!" Iroh clapped his hands. "Have you ever fought a waterbender, Zuko? Their forms are wholly foreign to we firebenders, but I think you'll find that they stretch your limits quite pleasantly."

Zuko's pale skin had flushed an angry red, and Katara watched him through her lashes. She felt his awkwardness, mirroring her own. "I've never fought with _bending_ before," she started, and Iroh turned to her with delight.

"Well then. This will be your first match!" He stepped to the center of the clearing, dragging Zuko along by the arm and gesturing to Katara. "Now, face each other, and bow."

Zuko glared at his uncle, his face still red, then clasped his hands and bowed gracefully to her. She tried to match the smooth motion, but felt herself dip too quickly and over-balance; she spread her arms to steady herself, then looked at Iroh. "What do I do?"

"Defend yourself," he explained. "Zuko will attack, and you will evade. Use that form we saw a few moments ago; it looked like it would make a splendid defense!"

"Uncle, I really –"

"No, it's okay." Katara smiled at him. "I think I'd like to spar." She watched him flush again, then drop his head in an awkward nod.

Iroh clapped once, then settled his hands in his sleeves. "You may begin!"

Katara drew water from the air around her, spreading it before her, while Zuko extended his leg and dropped forward. She dodged the fire he directed at her, using her momentum to collect the water spilled on the ground; she shaped it into a long ribbon that snaked through the air.

"I've never fought like this!" she called as Zuko punched the air, flames rolling from his fists. She ducked and felt the heat pass harmlessly over her head, but then sensed his motion and leapt just in time to let the fire sweep below her. Her concentration scattered and water splashed around her.

Zuko smirked, and she felt smugness color his emotions. "It shows," he said, sending another wave of fire at her.

Katara scrambled up, pulling her spilled water up to absorb the heat, then lashed it out; it cracked in the air like a whip, and he stumbled briefly before recovering. "Maybe – but I can tell sloppy when I see it!" she taunted. She spun her water around, waiting for another opening, but then Zuko moved, almost too fast for her to see; she whirled, too slowly, and she felt heat splash harmlessly across her back.

"Sloppy? If we weren't just sparring, you'd be dead!" He moved, again too fast for her to see, and she let her eyes unfocus as she concentrated on his presence and on the water behind her. Distantly, she felt Iroh's amusement, like a ripple spreading through the clearing, and then she raised her arms. Zuko's triumph flooded the air as he moved towards her again – then she brought her hands down and with them the flow of the creek.

Zuko shrieked as the water struck and Katara rose to the top of the wave, gathering it below her. She welcomed its biting cold and with it Zuko's discomfort, but then he slipped free, rolling out of the water and gasping for breath. Her control over such a large mass faltered and she fell back to the ground, keeping only a small portion aloft as the rest rained down to return to the creek.

She faced Zuko as he scrambled to a crouch, water already steaming off him, and she panted with effort as she tossed loose hair out of her eyes. He grinned and rushed, hands alight with fire, and she barely managed to dodge this time – but the water on the ground answered her direction, rising to trip him. Zuko stumbled, but recovered quickly, hands still full of flame and coming towards her; she tried to dodge again, but he caught her, arm around her shoulder and fist flaming before her face, and she thought of their first morning on the trail when he revealed himself as a firebender.

"Yield?" he asked, voice breathy in her ear, and Katara nodded.

"Yield," she said, and he released her. Her back felt cold as he stepped away, and she turned to face him.

"That was fun," she said with a smile, and saw that he, too, was breathing heavily, emanating satisfaction.

"Yeah," he started, but Iroh's applause prevented whatever he would have said next.

"Wonderful!" Iroh called. "Katara, if you hadn't told me otherwise, I would have called you a master. And Zuko! Your form only seems to have improved since last I saw you." Beaming, he stepped up and linked arms with both Zuko and herself. "Now, let us have another meal garnished with the relish of honest appetite and good company!

* * *

_I've never fought like that before_, Zuko reflected as his uncle and Katara chatted amiably. Katara had insisted on preparing dinner and Iroh had insisted on assisting and both had insisted that since he had prepared breakfast, he was not to prepare dinner. He rubbed his thighs, still feeling the creek's chill, the burn of muscles idle too long. _I've never moved that easily._

He remembered Katara's graceful movements, at once both foreign and predictable, and sipped the tea cooling beside him.

That night, Zuko slept fitfully, haunted by the familiar dream of uncontrollable fire sweeping across broken earth, consuming the shadowed figures before it – figures that watched him with wide, innocent eyes and seemed to beg "why?" He stood rooted to the earth, trying to reach the nearest apparition, and –

– the dream shifted to fire, honest fire, blazing and crackling without malice, but consuming a small village, a cluster of long wooden houses decorated with carved patterns, stylized lines and curves with hidden faces.

In the dream, Zuko watched, helpless, as the fire consumed his village before him, hearing the screams of the trapped and the sobs of the escaped. He turned to find someone – _Dad!_ – then found his attention drawn back to the burning buildings. Terror rose in him at the leaping flames, smothering him…

He frowned, shook his head, then _reached_, bending the fire, smothering it, directing it away from the fragile structures. Soon, rain fell, extinguishing the last of the flames, and Zuko sighed and slipped into a deeper sleep.

* * *

Katara woke to sunlight streaming through her window, distant birdsong drifting on the light breeze. She stretched, feeling the pull of sore muscles, and smiled to herself at the memory of sparring with Zuko. _I've never fought like that_, she thought, and sat up, pulling her knees to her chest to loosen her back.

Movement and an unmistakable tug at her senses caught her attention, and she pulled herself closer to the window to look down on the yard. Below, Zuko and Iroh moved across the grass, their movements mirroring each other as flame rushed from their hands, then their feet, then their hands again. Iroh moved with a fluidity that belied his short frame, while Zuko showed more power than grace. They closed the form, bringing their hands to their waists, then straightened, and Katara watched as Iroh explained a movement to Zuko, his gestures clear. She felt rather than saw Zuko frown, smelled his frustration on the air, and saw them begin the form again.

Katara sighed to herself as they practiced, leaning her elbows on the windowsill. _I wish I had someone to teach me_, she thought, smiling as Iroh broke his own stance to reposition Zuko's arms. Zuko huffed in annoyance, but the annoyance changed to satisfaction as fire flowed smoothly from his hands this time. _One day, I'll seek out a master waterbender_, she promised herself, _but for now_… She admired the way Zuko moved smoothly across the yard as his uncle watched. His shirt lay draped over the fence and his light skin gleamed with sweat in the morning sun and she wondered what was happening between them.

_A bond_… her grandmother's voice said deep in her memory, and Katara shivered. _That rare meeting of souls… Few in our clan have formed such a bond, and always with one from Outside._

_What does that mean, Gran?_ she wondered. She fell back on the bed in frustration, staring at the ceiling as she felt Zuko's strong movements, the blood pulsing through his veins, and she wondered what he tasted like, if he could feel her like she could feel him.

She shivered again, a feeling unrelated to the sun's warmth on her skin. _Gran…_ _I don't know what it means… but I think that I might like to be bonded with him._


	7. A Wild Tea Chase

**Chapter 7: A Wild Tea Chase**

posted July 31, 2009

* * *

_Author's Note: _Thank you, readers, for your kind and thoughtful reviews. They remind me I have a good reason to spend my weekly fandom time on polishing another chapter, rather than reading _Under a Sapphire Sky_ again, as there are people out there eagerly wanting to know what happens next. I'm ecstatic that you're enjoying the ride.

* * *

Zuko watched Katara in the edge of his vision as Iroh coached him through a firebending form. She handled the shovel easily, not breaking a sweat despite the morning's rising warmth, her movements graceful despite the mundanity of the task.

"Focus on the _firebending_ form, nephew, not the _waterbender's form_!"

Zuko scowled to hide his blush, putting more force into his move. His muscles burned with fatigue as flame streamed from his hands, and his uncle clapped once, appreciatively, before settling himself on a garden bench. "That's it, Zuko!" I do believe that we should take a break and refresh ourselves. Katara!" he called and she looked up. "Would you care for some chilled tea and a light snack?" She waved, and Iroh turned to Zuko. "Zuko, my boy, would you be so kind as to fetch the fresh loaf, the cheese, and the earthenware pitcher resting on the table inside?"

Katara eased herself into a chair as Zuko returned, hands laden. "I changed the chickens' bedding," she started, counting each completed chore on her fingers, "turned the compost piles, built a trellis for the peas, and pulled out that bush you said interfered with the flow of chi through the gardens. I'll fill the cisterns after I finish this." She held up her cup. "Is there anything else you need this time?"

Iroh smiled. "Katara, you are far too kind to this old man. I hardly deserve the care of one such as yourself." He held up one finger to stop her protest. "There is one other thing I might ask, though you are not in any way obligated to perform it." He paused to gesture at Zuko. "Naturally, my nephew here should assist with it."

"What?" Zuko squawked. Both Iroh and Katara ignored him.

"You see, my dear, there's a rare plant, the gāo shān jasmine – of course, it is not a true jasmine, but its flowers possess a similar fragrance, one described as being like that of the jasmine plant with hints of honey and citrus and wild black raspberry– but I digress. The gāo shān jasmine grows only in pristine mountain meadows, the ones just below the glaciers. It is a delicate plant that flowers only once each year, the morning after the summer's first full moon!" Iroh sighed, clasping his hands together. "When harvested and dried in the sun and steeped in pure water fed from the snow melt, it makes the most perfect tea known to mortal men!"

"… you're joking."

"Please disregard my nephew, Katara, he knows that I would never joke about so serious a matter." Iroh paused, sighing again, this time a dramatic exhalation of woe. "The trail to the glacial meadows is long and rather steep for these old legs, and I haven't been able to make the journey in several years…"

He looked at her with pleading eyes, and Katara laughed. "I'll harvest your tea for you, Iroh."

"And my nephew of course will be delighted to accompany you on this important mission!" He dropped his hand affectionately on Zuko's shoulder.

"You and your _tea_, uncle!"

Iroh again ignored Zuko, and smiled winningly at Katara. "The full moon is in four days! You should head out tomorrow."

* * *

"You don't have to go."

Katara looked up, surprise written on her face. She stopped midway through her form, and the water flowing from the creek into the elevated rock cisterns paused, shimmered in the air. "I don't mind. Do you mind?"

Zuko felt his face heat up. "_I_ don't mind! I just thought that _you_ might mind. And if you do, then you don't have to go!"

"Well, I _don't_ mind. And if _you_ don't mind, then we should plan what to pack." She smiled brightly at him and Zuko knew that his face must be flaming red.

"Right," he said, breaking eye contact to stare at the half-filled cisterns, anywhere but her eyes. "I'll just go… start… doing that, then." He turned back towards the way-station, trying to repress his sudden grin before his uncle could see it. He heard the splash of water into the cisterns resume and he knew, just _knew,_ that Katara smiled with him.

* * *

They left the next morning after a light breakfast. "Remember, the gāo shān jasmine looks like a small iris, with pale pink leaves and yellow centers!" Iroh called as they walked across the meadow, shouldering their packs once again.

Katara waved cheerfully as Zuko muttered "How could we _forget_?"

They reached the end of Iroh's meadows soon and followed a faint path into the woods. The forest closed over their heads and they made their way up the hillside along the path of a small creek.

"Growing up, my father always spoke of the dangers of the forest," Katara said into the quiet. "He was a sea person at heart, but my tribe was bound to the land, too." She paused and tilted her head at him. "Do you want to hear the story?"

"Sure," Zuko responded, partially out of curiosity and partially just to hear the sound of her voice.

"Gran always said that long ago, a woman was cast out from the Bear Tribe, who had grown fat and lazy on the salmon and clams by their village." Her voice dropped into a cadence, and Zuko knew somehow that she recited the words, that they had power beyond their simple meaning. "The woman had nowhere to go except into the forest, and so she walked upstream and camped by a creek for three days. The salmon could smell her exile, so they avoided her nets and she had nothing to eat.

"On the third night, she was hungry and cold and knew that she was going to die, so she had no fear left. When the wolves howled to the full moon that night, she answered them, asking them to kill her so that she could reach the Spirit World faster. The leader of the wolves came to her that night.

"'Woman,' she said. 'Why do you ask for death?'

"'Wolf,' she said. 'I have been cast out from my tribe and the creatures of the sea will no longer come to my net.'

"'Woman,' the wolf responded. 'You are foolish. The sea may be closed to you, but your people have forgotten the land is yours, too.'

"'Wolf,' the woman said. 'All my life I have known nets and lines and gathering baskets. I do not know how to live on the land.'

"'Then I will teach you,' the wolf said. 'And in return, you and your children and your children's children will honor me and my people and remind the other humans that the land, too, provides life.'

"The woman agreed, and the wolves taught her how to stalk and hunt, and she lived in the forest with them. But she grew lonely as the only one of her kind. 'Wolf,' she said one day. 'I am lonely.'

"'Woman,' the wolf responded. 'We are your tribe now.'

"'Yes," the woman agreed. 'But if I am to keep my promise to you, I must have children and grandchildren to honor the gifts you have given me.'

"'Then you must choose,' the wolf said, and they spoke no more that day.

"One day soon after, the woman skinned a deer that she had killed. She had chased it a long way, nearly to the beach, and she could see the sea from where she squatted. She had nearly finished the task, when a man stepped into her small clearing, and the woman knew that she must choose.

"He was from the Sea Lion Tribe, and they married soon after, their only witness the full moon and the leader of the wolves. 'Remember your promise to me, woman,' she said, and disappeared into the woods.

"The woman and the man built a house together in the strip of land between the forest and the sea, and their children and their children's children grew up as at home in the forest as they were on the sea. Over time, as sons and grandsons and great-grandsons left for other tribes, and young men came to marry daughters and granddaughters and great-granddaughters, they became known as the Wolf tribe.

"I was born into the Full Moon House, which was the greatest house in the Wolf tribe, because of that ancient promise made on the night of the full moon. Those of the Full Moon House are the woman's direct descendents, and we must always honor the wolves."

She smiled in a self-depreciating way, breaking the cadence. "At least, that's what Gran always said. Our winter village was on the shore, on a bend of land between the sea and the forest. The great houses were built above the high-tide line and below the tree line, right where Gran said the woman married. There was Full Moon House, and Sea Monster House, Deer Who Leaps the Sun House… Returning Salmon House, Brown Bear House..." she trailed off. "There were others, but I don't remember their names."

Zuko pictured it with an odd clarity: a cluster of long wooden buildings and carved pillars, silvered with age and decorated with swirling patterns that mirrored the tattoo on Katara's thigh, set between the gray shore and the green forest, the blue sky above. _Like that dream_, he thought, and struggled to remember which text must have given him the image.

"My father was from the Bear Tribe, and my grandfather came from the Killer Whale Tribe, up North. They believed that the forest represented the hidden, the cold, the dangerous, and that the sea represented the light, the source of life, and that the two were separate, but they didn't grow up with the wolf's lesson. The sea and the forest are connected, just different." She paused. "Both my father and my grandfather were Ravens," she added, as if an afterthought.

Zuko frowned to himself, trying to remember the droning words spoken to a stuffy lecture hall. "So you're from the Eagle moiety?" he asked.

Katara stopped walking. He turned to look at her and his innards seemed to sink as he saw her expression. Her lips pressed together and her nostrils flared and her anger felt almost tangible, like the crackle of static on a winter morning. _Stupid, stupid, stupid, _Zuko thought. _All these years and you _still_ can't _think_ before you speak?_

"That's a _Commonwealth_ word," she said scathingly. "And I'm a _Wolf_."

"I'm sorry – I took a class a long time ago, and –"

"Well, you're _wrong_. So was your _class_, and your _professors_." She made an angry gesture. "They're always trying to _explain_ us. These _ethnologists_ and their _notebooks_ and their _lies_ for their _books_. They've forgotten their _own_ history, and so they need to claim _ours_."

Zuko frowned again. "I don't think it's like that," he started, but she cut him off.

"You don't know _what_ it's like! _You're_ from the Commonwealth; these are _your_ people who have been forcing my people out!"

Zuko could only stare at her.

"This was _our_ land, and you just _came_ and –"

Something warned Zuko, a prickle of sensation down his spine, and he spun suddenly, throwing himself at Katara and knocking her to the ground. Taloned paws scraped the stones where she'd stood a moment before, and Zuko scrambled out of his pack and up to his feet to face the snarling cat. He saw its muscles bunch, its front paws leave the ground, and he braced himself, ducking and _pushing_ and managing somehow to avoid the sharp claws passing over his head.

_Stupid!_ he cursed himself as the huge cat landed heavily on its feet, shaking its head and fixing him with a killing stare. _You should have been paying attention!_ He dimly sensed Katara rise behind him, and he moved reflexively into a fighting stance. The cat gathered itself to leap again, tail lashing behind it, and he vaulted forward. Flames sprang from his hand, trailing from his arm as he swung, and the cat retreated a step before snarling again and lunging for his throat. Zuko brought his hands down onto its muzzle, using the momentum to roll over its back and onto his feet again.

The cat landed heavily on its chest as Zuko spun to face it again; he watched it stagger to its feet to face Katara, who stared at it with an oddly fearless expression. Zuko gathered fire in his hands again and dodged between her and the cat, bringing his arms together and lunging forward. The cat scrambled backwards, retreating towards the trees, and Zuko watched it go, breathing heavily.

He heard Katara move behind him. "Thanks," she said softly, and he turned to see her looking moodily at the churned up earth. She glanced up at him. "And thanks for not killing her."

Zuko only stared at her, and she shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his eyes.

"It was a nursing female. She was probably just trying to feed her kits."

He reached for his pack, dusted it off, shouldered it. "You're welcome."

Katara retrieved her own pack, and they walked in silence for the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

They set up camp in awkward silence that night, falling into the routine they'd established while walking to the way-station. Zuko made the fire while Katara fetched water, then he started the rice and gathered greens while she fished in a nearby stream.

Guilt gnawed at Katara as they ate, and finally she broke the silence. "I'm sorry I yelled at you."

Zuko looked up in surprise, chopsticks hovering over his bowl.

"I know it's not _your_ fault. It's just… hard to remember, sometimes, that… there's a lot of people in the Commonwealth, and only a few of them have..." She met his gaze over the fire. "I'm sorry," she said again, and he nodded once and took another bite, and Katara relaxed, staring at her bowl. The air between them lost the tense feeling that had built since her outburst, and she sighed very softly in relief before she continued.

"And…" He looked up again. "Thank you again for driving off the cougar. I've never seen anyone fight like that before."

Zuko set his empty bowl beside him, a ghost of a grin on his face. "Uncle always told me to never give up without a fight. Major Zhujao said the same thing. During the Huìlin –"

He stopped, turning away as distress suddenly rushed from him. She felt his breathing and his heart speed up, but somehow not like before, not like by the hot spring when she'd asked about the Fire Nation and he'd stiffened with terror. He stared into the fire, the distress ebbing, and she spoke softly.

"You were in the War?"

He took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and let it out in a long shuddering sigh, as if releasing something kept too long. "Yes." The fire flickered, flaring and subsiding as if in response. "The draft notice arrived a month after my seventeenth birthday. I spent three months at a training camp, then they sent me to the Fire Nation."

"Is… is that how you were scarred?" Katara asked before she could stop herself, and she wished she could take back the words.

Zuko frowned. "Scarred? Oh. No." He touched his face, the burn purplish in the dark. "No, that was something else." He smiled quickly but without humor, a bitter expression. "I was _lucky_ to have this scar. The other soldiers would have hated me without it. I _look_ Fire Nation, but they all saw the mark of fire before they saw my eyes. It was the only thing that made me one of them, rather than one of the enemy." His gaze returned to the fire and Katara watched the light play across his face, shadows and highlights. "The War left other scars. At the Huìlin…"

"You don't have to –" she started, but he glanced up, meeting her eyes.

"Maybe it's time I did," he said softly, and looked back at the fire. Katara slid closer to him on the log, settling so that they were near without touching.

"In the Huìlin Forest… we lost half our battalion. Killed, captured, missing… Burned and buried and gone." He stopped, breathed deeply, and Katara could feel him grounding himself as dim memories trickled into her consciousness, wastelands of burned earth and shadowed forms; she tried to project the peace of the sea on a warm summer night as he continued.

"We had advanced into Fire Nation territory, thinking that armies from the Earth Kingdoms were supporting our flank, but they'd been stalled. The Fire Nation army cut us off and surrounded us.

"It took six days for the Commonwealth to fight through to us. Two hundred soldiers in our Battalion were killed outright before they arrived, another hundred missing or taken prisoners… We had no food, no water… we had to crawl through the mud and bodies to reach the only stream in the area, and Major Zhujao couldn't get a message out through the line, so the Earth Kingdoms' armies attacked us along with the Fire Nation until the Commonwealth arrived."

Katara felt the memories threaten to overwhelm him, heard his breath quicken and tasted his distress in the air, and she lay a hand gently on his arm, projecting her intent as loudly as she knew how so as not to startle him. Zuko seemed not to notice, but then lay his own hand over it, lacing his fingers smoothly through hers as he continued to stare into the fire.

"We held our position, and the Commonwealth army eventually came and drove the Fire Nation into retreat. Most of the battalion were so badly wounded that they never returned to the front. But I wasn't wounded, and I had held the line, and so they sent me back out to fight.

"It was a living nightmare. One day bled into the next and the nights were full of earthquakes and fire. We were all exhausted and hungry and the attacks just kept coming, and all we could do was fight.

"The War finally ended, but the nightmares didn't… the doctors told me that I was shell-shocked, that it was just a reaction to what I'd seen, that it'd fade, with time, but they didn't _see_ it…" His voice trailed off to a whisper, then he stopped, moving his hand from hers to cover his eyes. Katara closed the distance between them, sliding her free arm around his shoulders. He shuddered and lowered his head, hiding his face, and she watched the fire.

"When I got back," he finally continued, "I had nightmares during the day. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep… I didn't know what to do with myself, so I went back to my family. I went to university, worked with my sister… it got better, but it never felt _right_. My father is a politician and my sister is… in the family business, and I never fit back in." He straightened, staring into the fire again, and Katara moved away to give him space, dropping her arm and clasping her hands in her lap.

"Maybe I'd seen too much. I heard that Major Zhujao committed suicide a little while after he returned to the Commonwealth. I thought about following him, but something held me back and I kept trying to live, one day at a time.

"It took me a long time to unpack. When I got back to Ba Sing Sei, I left my trunk in the corner of my room and tried to ignore it, but when I finally went through it, I found – Uncle had sent me a letter, right after I left for the War. 'East of the setting sun…' It didn't make sense at the time, but when I unpacked my trunk I found it again and finally realized what he meant."

"What did he mean?"

Zuko laughed, a short, sharp sound without mirth. "Go west," he said, and ran a hand over his face again. His posture had relaxed again, elbows resting on his knees, and he clasped his loosely together. "I bought a train ticket the next morning, and was in Sheng Ziyou by the end of the week. It was as far west as I could go then, and I knew I should wait to understand what his next words meant." He smiled wanly, glancing at her briefly. "Uncle always tried to teach me patience."

"And you worked in the restaurant?"

"And I worked in the restaurant. I'd been there more than two years when someone mentioned Skaguak, that 'Skaguak' means 'a windy place with waves on the water,' and then I knew where to go. It took me another few months to save enough money to pay for the trip south. I stayed in Ba Jin Hu for a little while, then finally I was in Skaguak. And then I met you, and you know the rest."

He looked up again and this time he returned her gaze, a real smile in the crease of his eyes and the quirk of his mouth. She smiled back, and together they watched the fire burn low to glowing coals.

* * *

That night, when the burning earth split apart in his dreams, a gentle rain fell, extinguishing the fires and lulling him into a deeper sleep.

* * *

"Want me to go first?" Katara asked. Zuko stared at the creek below them, which raged between exposed boulders with the surge of melted snow. His stare shifted to the narrow tree fallen into the ravine and lodged against a jagged rock outcropping, which together formed a bridge to the other bank, and then to her.

"I'll go first," she said, and placed her foot carefully on the log. She eased herself down it, digging her heels back into the mossy surface and spreading her arms for balance. She stepped gingerly from the log onto rock, setting her feet into cracks in its surface, then hopped lightly to the next ridge.

"See?" she called to Zuko, who watched her skeptically. "Just be careful!" she turned back to the rock, setting her foot again, and –

Her foot slipped and she lunged forward to balance herself, twisting her body, but the pack on her back hampered the movement and she had a moment of surprising clarity to consider her carelessness and how Sokka would _never_ let her live it down.

The water's icy cold drove the breath from her lungs and she tried to reach out to the water, but it ignored her as it thundered down the hillside, eager to join the distant sea. It caught at her pack she struggled to pull her arms from the straps, but the current hampered the motion, sweeping her to the surface where she gasped for breath and thought she heard a distant shout, then pulling her under and slamming her against a submerged boulder.

Pain blossomed through her arm and along her ribs as she was scraped across its surface, then faded to numbness in the searing cold. The water seemed to dance around her, teasing her as she sometimes used it to tease; it pushed her to the surface and she gasped in another mouthful of air, then she was swept along, battered through the current and finally down towards a dark tangle of roots and branches, a sieve she knew would catch and hold her under until –

Something grabbed her wrist, yanking her up so hard that she felt something tear in her shoulder, then she was out of the water, cradled carefully against someone's chest as she surrendered to the cold.

* * *

Zuko carried Katara protectively, heating himself as fast as he dared. Her wet clothing steamed where he touched it, and he pulled her close against him as he scrambled out of the ravine, searching for suitable shelter. She wasn't shivering – a bad sign, he knew – and her arm hung at awkward angle, clearly broken.

The forest closed around them and finally – only moments later – Zuko dropped to his knees, struggling to get his pack off while maintaining his hold on Katara. Her head lolled back on his chest, her wet hair soaking his shirt, as he pulled his bed roll out and set it beside him. Katara's soaking pack still lay by the creek; it could be retrieved later.

"How does a _waterbender_ nearly die in a _river_?" he whispered, more to himself than her, as he moved his arms around her, steaming away more of the creek. As her clothing dried, she began to shiver violently, and Zuko wrapped his bedroll around them both, leaning back against a boulder and pulling her against him. He wrapped his hands around her arm – one at her wrist, one at her elbow – murmured an apology against her neck, then _pulled_, feeling the bones move back into alignment. He held her hand with his, supporting her arm; he would splint it later, but now it was most important to get her _warm_.

He tucked her head under his chin and pulled the bedroll up and let the fire inside him surge, and she slowly stopped shaking. Zuko felt her slip into sleep, relaxing in the warmth, and he settled himself back more comfortably against the rock.

* * *

Katara roused slowly, warm and comfortable. A masculine scent filled the air around her and she felt the rise and fall of breathing at her back. _Jet_? she thought sleepily… but that had been a long time ago, too impossibly long for it to be Jet. Confused, she roused further, whimpering at her cramped muscles, and fought lethargy to open her eyes.

The warmth wrapped around her diminished as she squirmed, and she craned her head around to see Zuko looking down at her. He leaned back against an outcrop of granite, and Katara realized suddenly that she was sitting in his lap. She felt herself flush as Zuko watched her, clearly amused despite his serious expression. His gold eyes seemed to warm her to the core, as his arms had a moment previously.

"Hi," she finally said.

"Hi," he responded.

She sat silent a moment longer, then scrambled up, turning to face him. "Um…"

"Do you remember falling into the creek?" he asked, still sitting.

Katara frowned, thinking back from waking to warmth. She remembered the water closing over head, forcing her down… "Yeah." She tilted her head. "You pulled me out? And warmed me up?"

Zuko nodded.

"Thank you."

"It's nothing. How's your arm?"

"My arm?" she asked, rubbing her hands together; she could still feel the chill in her fingertips. "Fine. Why?"

Zuko looked at her oddly, a question she didn't understand in his gaze. "No reason," he finally said.

"That's twice you've saved me. I suppose we're more than even for the rockslide."

Zuko flushed and ducked his head. "It's nothing," he repeated.

"I've pulled bodies from creeks like that before. So, thanks." She smiled.

He smiled at her in return, a genuine smile despite its subtlety, and she felt a pleasant shiver run through her.

* * *

Later, they sat before a fire, Katara sipping a thin hot soup Zuko had prepared from one of the many packets Iroh had pushed into his bag. Zuko had already eaten – ravenously, she noted – and Katara's bed roll lay draped over a convenient branch, mostly dry after she had bent the water from it. She sat on the ground, her back against the granite and Zuko's coat draped over her shoulders.

Zuko raised the teapot heating in the fire, and she nodded. He poured tea into her mug and handed it to her. "Thanks," she said absently as she stared into the flames. "When I was a girl… One winter, I fell through the ice by our village. That's the last time I remember being that cold." She laughed weakly. "It's ironic, I know – a waterbender nearly dying from cold water. Dad and Sokka brought me back to the house, and they set me by the fire with hot stones around me. My mother…" She paused, the memory bittersweet. "My mother brought me broth and sat with me all evening, until I finally stopped shaking."

She felt Zuko's interest from across the fire, and the words seemed to flow from her without thought.

"She was the heart of Full Moon House. Her brother was the house leader, and the rest of the tribe followed him above anyone else. Some of the other sisters-of-the-leader in the tribe were loud and bossy, but not Mom. She was patient and kind, but she always stood her ground." Katara fumbled with the collar of her shirt, clasped the pendant. "This was her necklace. It's all that I have left of her."

"How… how did she die?" She felt Zuko's hesitance, and some spark of emotion she couldn't identify.

"The Shadow-Catchers came." Katara felt the roughness in her own voice and tried to keep the sob safely within her own throat. Zuko sat silently, waiting for her to continue; she felt his patience and it occurred to her how easy, how _pleasant_ it was to talk with him, who only listened and accepted, rather than demanding or judging. The realization warmed her and made it easier to share the dark memory.

"The ancient enemy of our people. Gran said that the Shadow-Catchers have hunted our clan since the beginning of time. I don't know if that's true, but… they came when I was a little girl." She closed her eyes and bowed her head. "I don't remember much of it… I remember my mother screaming, and watching the Houses burn. I felt so helpless..." She remembered the hooded forms running through the night, their stylized insignia bright against dark clothing; her throat tightened and tears burned in he eyes and she forced herself to continue.

"Some of us managed to escape. We went to the Sea Otter Tribe first, but their village was gone. Burned, like ours had been. We went to Skaguak next, and the Commonwealth had sent _agents –_" she spat the word "– to help us _relocate_.

"Dad said that _they_ hadn't sent the Shadow-Catchers after us, but I could never believe him. The agents had visited our village only a few weeks before the attack –" she choked, raised a hand to wipe her eyes, "and then they forced us into a camp at the edge of Skaguak. They made me and Sokka and the other kids go to a _school_, and they whipped us for speaking our own language." The tea cooling in her cup jumped, reacting to her anger, and she set it down and hugged her knees to her chest.

"I left as soon as I could. I didn't need arithmetic, or science, or _literature_. I learned the woods, instead, and I knew that one day, I would find the Shadow-Catchers again. To avenge my people." She closed her eyes. "To avenge my _mother_." She felt the tears slip down her cheeks and she felt unashamed; felt Zuko's quiet acceptance of her grief. "I don't know where to find them, though, so all I can do is wait."

The night seemed quiet after she finished speaking, the crackle of the fire and the small sounds of the forest the only sounds until Zuko spoke.

"That's something we have in common," he said softly.

Katara looked up at him, wiping at the drying tears with the back of her hand.

"My mother…" he started softly, staring as always into the fire. "My mother disappeared when I was young. I think I know the people responsible…" he trailed off and Katara saw the shadows in his memory, then he seemed to shake himself. "My sister and I tried to find them, a few years later. Tracking people down is… something of a family business."

"Like the Dingju-dians?" she asked. "I've heard of them – they're like private detectives."

"… Something like that." He rubbed his eyes and she tasted his weariness on the air, a weariness that had nothing to do with the long day. "But after the War, and with Uncle gone… My sister wasn't interested in finding them, and I didn't know where to start again. I still don't."

He stared into the fire, hands clasped lightly across his knees, and she could tell from the unfocused look in eyes that he didn't see the flames. "And I don't even know if I was right in the first place."

* * *

The earth opened in a jagged crack, flames racing down the trench and swallowing the shadowy forms caught in a sea of blood that rose and fell with an inescapable tide, drowning a burning village, a cluster of long wooden houses that watched with hidden eyes as the flames chased its inhabitants into the dark forest. Faces familiar – and yet _not_ – formed and dissolved in the fire as the earth here, too, ripped apart and a mocking voice –

Katara spasmed, startling herself awake and she stared into the darkness, felt the cool evening in the ragged breaths she drew, but the panic didn't recede and she felt her own lingering terror feeding Zuko's.

She scrambled out of her bedroll and rolled to her feet, crouching beside him as he thrashed in the grip of the dream, fear roiling off him and breaking against her. "Zuko!" she called and he swung blindly at her, hand flaming as the nightmare shifted wildly, shame and fear and blame and _it's not my fault!_ – and she grabbed his wrists and held them fast beside his head. She felt him wake at the touch and the panic of the restraint joined the panic from the dream and she _reached_ out at him.

"Zuko!" she said again and she saw his eyes open as he struggled to sit up. "It's okay…" she said, while she thought _It's me, Katara!_ at him through the connection she could feel but not describe. "It's okay."

She saw recognition in his face and his hands relaxed, the fires dying. "They killed her, they _killed_ her…"

"It's okay…" she repeated.

"They _killed_ her, they came in the night, we're supposed to _kill_ them, we're supposed to _protect_ you from them, and they came and took her away!"

"Shhh…" she whispered, letting go of one of his wrists to smooth his hair back from his forehead. He closed his eyes and leaned forward, and she let go of his other wrist and slid her arms around his neck to hug him. His arms wrapped around her in return and she felt them both relax, the terror receding into the night.

"If I give up, will I have failed her?" Zuko whispered, his breath warm against her shoulder and his thoughts still muddled by sleep.

"You're not a failure," she whispered and tightened her arms around him and felt him sigh.

They released each other slowly and Katara slipped back into her bedroll, angling it so that she could reach out to clasp Zuko's hand. He squeezed once, lightly, and she felt him slip back into sleep and she followed him down into a deep, dreamless slumber.

* * *

Katara woke the next morning to feel Zuko's presence nearby. A high throbbing carried through the air, and she smiled to herself as she sat up slowly. Zuko sat motionless on the fallen log bordering their campsite, a rapt expression on his face as he watched tiny, jewel-bright birds dart through the air.

"They're humming birds," she whispered, and saw him nod slightly, entranced as they dodged in the air to snatch up insects, hovered beside flowers, chattered with each other in high squeaking clicks. She watched Zuko in turn, first through her lashes then more openly as he failed to notice, his attention on the birds.

His relaxed posture, the warmth radiating from him spoke of an early morning routine, firebending practice, perhaps, and the blood flowed smoothly through his veins. She could feel the traces of her own blood still moving in him, pumping through his heart, and she could smell him, almost _taste_ him, his very essences mingling with hers.

_I want him_, she realized, wanted more than his company and more than his trust, and felt the wildness rise in her own blood. She shivered, the sensation familiar and foreign and pushing against her skin.

_Down, girl_, she thought, once again wishing that she understood that legacy of her clan.

* * *

In contrast to the first part of their journey, the day passed in pleasant conversation and companionship, with only spreading vistas and the occasional white rump of a deer vanishing into the woods to break the routine of the trail. They reached the high mountain meadows late that afternoon and made camp near a glacier-fed lake that mirrored the surrounding peaks.

Their conversation continued to flow easily around the fire that night as Katara talked of her time as a guide, of her travels to Deadhorse and Kilkao and her one long journey north to Ba Jin Hu. In return, Zuko told stories of the polyglot city Sheng Ziyou, of the fog that rolled thick from the ocean but evaporated into nothing as it hit the dry desert hills.

The full moon rose slowly, throwing shadows and highlights across the camp, and Katara fell silent, listening as he spoke and not disturbing the comfortable silence that finally rested on them. Zuko could feel her restlessness, the quiet throb of energy in the air. _Like the solstice_, he thought, remembering how fire coursed through his veins on that longest day of the year, how he could concentrate on nothing but the exhilaration of his element. "I don't mind if you go," he said softly, nodding at the moon, and she smiled at him, the expression somehow deeper, more knowing, than her usual warm smiles. She rose smoothly, stepping out of the firelight and into shadows and silvered highlights, then vanished into the darkness.

Zuko stared into the fire for a long time, trying to ignore the odd pull of the moonlight, but the feeling only grew. Finally, he stood, raised his hands and dropped them to extinguish the fire, and followed her into the night.

Katara stood in – _on_ – the lake, her hair loose, her arms relaxed at her sides, her face raised to the sky. Ripples spread from her feet as she stepped across the water, the moonlight highlighting the lines on her leg, and Zuko felt lightning course through his body when he realized her clothing rested on the shore beside him.

_I want her_, he realized, but it was not just the pull of physical attraction, it was something _more_, something that wrapped itself around him and whispered that he would never be alone again, if only he surrendered to it.

She turned and stepped towards shore, silhouetted against the moonlight, and walked beside him so close that he could have touched her, grabbed her and had her against him with so little effort, but he just watched her, angling his head as she scooped up her clothing and passed by.

"You should get some sleep," she said softly over her shoulder, and he could feel her walk back towards the dead fire.

Zuko shivered. "Yeah…" he agreed to the empty air. He felt the sensation of lightning again as he realized that his old life was slipping quietly away and he had nothing planned for the new.

_Nothing_, he thought, _except… her._

* * *

"Is that it?" Katara asked, pointing. She and Zuko stared at the unassuming plant, waving gently in the breeze flowing from the peaks above them. "It's so… small," she finally said.

Zuko snorted. "I'm sure that Uncle would have something pithy to say about how it's not the _size_ of the flower, it's the way you steep it."

"Well, it looks sort of like a pink iris," she said, ignoring him. "So I guess this is it. The gāo shān jasmine flower." She pulled out the tightly-woven basket that Iroh had sent with them.

"This better be some good tea," Zuko muttered.


	8. The Sea and the Forest

**Chapter 8: The Sea and the Forest**

_posted August 7, 2009_

* * *

Iroh watched the flow of water in the late afternoon sun, spilling from the cistern into a narrow channel, soaking into the sculptured earthworks that bordered his garden. He adjusted the flow to a trickle and straightened, feeling the bones in his back shift and creak with the motion. He picked up his shears, but movement caught his eye as he surveyed the gardens. He smiled to see Katara and Zuko walking down the path through the meadow.

They talked animatedly, Zuko gesturing, his face drawn into a frown as he explained something; Katara's laughter and response drifted on the air, though the words were indistinguishable from this distance. Iroh watched Zuko's frown lessen, and he set his shears down, slid his hands into his sleeves, and stepped forward to meet them.

Katara looked up first and waved, smiling brilliantly. She jostled Zuko with her elbow; he looked up at her, then at Iroh, and his face relaxed into a quiet smile. Iroh's heart warmed at the sight; his nephew's posture had lost some of its tension and the shadows haunting his eyes seemed lessened.

"Welcome," Iroh said simply as they approached.

"We found it!" Katara exclaimed. "Right where you said it would be!"

"Splendid! I assume that you encountered no difficulties?"

"Well, not if you don't count the cougar – but Zuko fought it off."

"Don't forget the river that you nearly died in."

"I didn't nearly _die_."

"And the enraged moose."

"And the waterfall? Remember the waterfall, Mr. _Firebender_?"

"Don't trouble me about the waterfall after that river, _waterbender_."

"And the bear cubs? _You_ warned _me_ about bears and their cubs! And by the way, I didn't _need_ your _warning_ – I _grew up_ knowing to _never_ get between a bear and her cub!"

"Well, no one ever told _me_ how _fast_ bears are."

Iroh coughed and as one they turned to him; Zuko ducking his head to hide a grin while Katara beamed openly.

"These sounds like tales to flavor our evening repast." He clapped them both on the back, gently pushing them forward. "Do come inside, my dears. The tea kettle is waiting."

* * *

_Oh, Zuko_, Iroh thought later as Katara and Zuko cleared the plates from the table. They'd both eaten heartily, taking turns to share the details of their journey, and now they performed the chore as smoothly as they'd told the tales. _You're still that same boy, however you may try to hide it_. _And Katara…_

Iroh watched them, leaning back in his chair, hands folded on his stomach; watched how their barriers had lowered, the easy way she laughed and the way he tried to hide his smile before returning hers.

_They have no idea_… he thought, sensing the connection pulsing between them, clear as a physical tie if the observer knew how to _look_, unmuddled even by their own ignorance. _Or is it innocence_? Iroh thought, with a bittersweet smile.

His heart broke for them.

* * *

Katara woke alone in the cozy guest room the next morning, missing the feel of Zuko's presence just an arm's length away. She _reached_ out, felt him warm and awake on the floor below; could tell by the way his blood seemed to hum that he had awakened long before. Her dreams had been untroubled that night, and by the energy pulsing below, Zuko's had as well.

She descended the stairs just as Iroh slid a pan of something that smelled yeasty and sweet into the oven. Zuko sat on the settle, tea in hand, and he smiled his warm subtle smile at her.

"Good morning, my dear!" Iroh exclaimed. "You seem to have a keen appreciation firebenders' morning habits – breakfast will be ready in just a few minutes!"

"I will admit to getting a little spoiled by having a bed, a hot spring, and your wonderful cooking for so long."

Iroh smiled broadly.

She poured herself a cup of tea and sat down beside Zuko, keeping a companionable distance between them. His pleasant nervousness resonated in her, and Katara forced herself to keep still, to not tap her foot and fidget, or take his hand in hers.

"Is there anything else you need done around the way-station, Iroh?" she asked, sipping at her tea. Suddenly, the last thing she wanted to do was return to Skaguak, to the rooming house and its small, lonely room, its bathtub that paled in comparison to Iroh's springs. Iroh gave her a knowing look and she blushed.

"I would of course not wish to deprive some wealthy Northerner of your guiding services," he began, his smile kind. "_But_… the stable roof has developed a leak and I fear that it may become severe if not repaired soon." He paused to smile knowingly again. "It is a tricky task, one that involves two people." He sipped his tea and Katara felt Zuko's pulse jump in time with hers. "I fear it may take some time to compete."

Katara tried to keep her face straight, but by the grin on Iroh's, she failed. "We'll start after breakfast – if Zuko doesn't mind."

Zuko cleared his throat. "I don't," he muttered, then sipped his tea.

* * *

"When Uncle said 'repair the roof,' I didn't think he meant 'replace half the roof,'" Zuko grumbled as he pried another shingle off, tossing it to the growing pile below.

"At least it isn't raining," Katara responded, wiping sweat from her forehead. She sat back on her heels and flapped the hem of her shirt, making a breeze to cool her stomach.

Zuko sat back as well, his shirt long since discarded, his gaze wandering to Iroh. Their host kneeled on a thick pad between garden beds, weeding tiny sprouts from the exposed dirt. A handful of red-brown hens followed his movements, crowding each other and cackling for the tender greens and occasional worm tossed to them.

"You seem close to him," he said softly, and Katara glanced up in surprise.

"I don't know if we're _close_," she responded after a moment, prying another shingle off the roof. "But I _like_ him. He's a good man."

"That he is."

"When he first came here, from Ba Sing Sei, I thought he was just another tourist, some rich Easterner who wanted an 'adventure.'" She wiped sweat from her brow again and reached for her canteen, hanging from an exposed rafter. "I realized that I was completely wrong, though. He stayed in town a few weeks, asking which routes needed a way-station, buying supplies, things like that. Toph said he knew exactly what he needed, and what the fair price was, too. It drove her crazy at first." The memory made her smile, as did her friend's grudging acceptance after Iroh's solicitous offer of new signs for the outfitting shop.

"He asked me to help him find a good location, but I already had another contract, so he went with another guide." She drank deeply and offered the canteen to Zuko, who accepted it with a nod of thanks. "Next time I saw him was here, and I was really impressed by how much he'd accomplished." She set her pry-bar again, pulling another shingle from the beam.

Zuko replaced the lid on the canteen and hung it back from the rafter. He worked methodically for several minutes, eyes on his work, before speaking again. "You take care of him."

She shrugged, slid her pry-bar under a particularly tight single; it splintered under the pressure and she tossed it aside. "A few years ago, I noticed that he was having some problems with the stairs, and with using a shovel for a long time. I offered to do some chores whenever I came along this trail." Katara thought of the gardens, the orchards reclaimed from an abandoned homestead, the chickens raised from eggs carried in a heated basket. "He really loves this way-station, and I'm happy to help make sure he can stay here. He's talked about retiring to Skaguak a few times, but he doesn't seem happy when he says it. He once said something about being done with cities."

Zuko nodded absently, ducking instinctively as a shingle broke with a sharp _crack_. "I know the feeling, I think."

"What's it like, in the East?" she asked, suddenly curious. She'd never cared before what lay beyond the deep forests and calm inland seas of the Southern Territories, but now she found herself driven to know where _Zuko_ came from. She blushed, wishing her hair were loose to hide her face, and pulled a shingle off with a sodden _squish_.

"It's different," he said after a moment. "Crowded. The cities are big." He gestured around them, his hand indicating the way-station and its grounds. "They make Skaguak seem as small as this barn."

"It is… better?" she asked, suddenly afraid of his answer.

He paused, a distant expression on his face, then shrugged. "It's just different."

* * *

They worked steadily through the afternoon, pausing for a simple, hearty lunch at Iroh's insistence, then climbing back onto the roof. _Is it really this easy_? Zuko wondered.

_You'll know where to go if you wait patiently and are honest with yourself_, his uncle had said that morning, his smile knowing. He had nothing left to return to, but had long grown used to the inevitability of his past controlling his future.

_Is it different this time_? he asked himself again, but with no better answer than he had the previous hour, he focused on the roof in front of him, the steady rhythm of pulling old wooden slats from narrow beams.

After only few moments, though, his gaze slipped sideways to Katara, as it had all afternoon. She'd tied her camisole up just under her breasts, baring her stomach and her smooth lower back; in the sunlight, they were lighter then her sun-browned arms and face. The contrast and the sheen of sweat on her skin were beyond appealing, and he tried desperately to keep his attention on the work.

"Zuko! Katara!" Iroh called, and Zuko realized that his gaze was again sliding; he glanced quickly down at his uncle. "Will you move Jasmine and Ginseng to the other pasture? I believe that Camellia has grown weary of their company today."

Zuko frowned, looked down into the fenced enclosure. One of the mules – was that one Ginseng? – had crowded up against the mare, while the other – Jasmine? – was stealing her fodder. The mare – Camellia – snapped at the mules, who continued their attentions undeterred.

_Uncle and his tea_, Zuko thought again, shaking his head slightly as he hopped down off the roof, rolling onto his feet as he landed.

"You may have to do this – the mules and I don't really get along," Katara warned as she stepped from the ladder onto the ground. Zuko nodded and vaulted lightly over the fence. The mules turned towards him, curious, but then flattened their ears and widened their eyes as Katara approached. They backed away from her, then one lashed a hoof out and she leapt aside in time to avoid injury.

Zuko grabbed its halter, pulling its head around. "Hey now," he said softly. The mule snorted, bobbing its head, and he led it through the gate. The other followed close behind, while Camellia retreated to the far end of the enclosure. All three watched Katara warily, postures tense.

"They do seem to hate you," he said as he returned to where Katara stood.

"I guess they don't like wolves," she said with smile, but something about the way she said it made him shiver.

* * *

As the shadows lengthened, one side of the roof lay nearly bare. The remaining lines of shingles were tricky to remove, as sitting on the roof gave way to climbing a ladder to reach its edge. They expanded the smooth routine developed over the day, with one climbing the ladder and prying off the shingles, the other passing up the tools and gathering the discarded wood into a pile.

Iroh brought them dinner as the light began to fade; they ate outside, the cold preserved meats, fresh vegetables, and fragrant rice welcome after the day's work. Iroh told of his chickens' exploits that day as Zuko and Katara ate ravenously. "… but Ginger had struggled long and hard to free that worm from the earth, so she chased Rose-Black across the yard, squawking all the way. Who the ultimate winner was, I'll never know, but there was _quite_ a silence from the henhouse afterward."

Katara and Zuko laughed together and Iroh joined in. They sat quietly for a moment, savoring the meal and the company, then Iroh cleared his throat. "Rain is rolling in," he started. "I can feel it in the ache of this old back." He nodded at the barn, half its roof exposed to the evening air. "There's plenty of time to finish that after the storm has passed, but I fear it will need to be covered tonight."

Though the sky was clear and the evening still warm, Katara and Zuko worked together to stretch a tarp over the roof while Iroh cleared away the remains of dinner. When it was secured to the structure with careful knots, they walked together to the way-station, but Iroh appeared in the door, barring their way.

"Not until you've bathed," he said, looking at them with disapproval on his face but laughter in his eyes. "The two of you look as if you spent all day in a barn."

Katara glanced down at herself, Zuko mirroring the gesture; they were both covered with thick reddish dust, cobwebs, leaves, and all the grime that two people could collect in a hard day's work. They looked up at each other and grinned like naughty children caught by a watchful nanny. "Yes, Iroh," Katara said as Zuko said "Yes, Uncle," and all three laughed, the sound warm in the cooling dusk.

* * *

The waning moon rose as Katara finally stepped out of the spring, the faint light diffused by thin clouds moving across the sky. She picked her way carefully to the lowest pool and plunged in, the sudden chill of cool creek water sending a delicious shiver across her skin. A faint hissing sound drew her attention; she glanced up to see Zuko standing above the upper pool, steaming himself dry. She felt his focus on her, a warm shiver over the water's chill, and she stepped out of the pool to bend the water from her skin and hair. She slid into her pants and shirt, the worst of the dust already beaten from them, and bundled her camisole into a pocket.

Zuko waited for her and he greeted her with a warm look as they started down the path back to the way-station. Katara knew that the silence would have been pleasant, companionable if not for the tension of questions still unasked, nagging at her mind even as her senses reveled in Zuko's closeness. They stepped into the clearing where they'd sparred only a few days before and Katara looked up at the long slice of sky revealed between the trees.

"Look," she said, tugging on his sleeve with one hand and gesturing with the other. The clouds had thickened, obscuring the stars and lighting up the sky with the reflected glow of the moon. "The storm's rolling in." As she spoke, the small sounds of the forest seemed to hush, as if anticipation of the storm.

"I've never understood how Uncle manages to so often be _right,_" Zuko said; lightning flashed far in the distance as he finished. They stood close together, close enough that his arm brushed hers as they watched the sky, and Katara turned to look at him, examined the burned side of his face in profile.

She drew in her breath and let it out and gathered her courage to ask what she most feared the answer to. "What are you going to do now?" she said softly.

He continued to watch the sky, the skin surrounding his slanted eye unmoving, but she felt his heartbeat increase, tasted his nervousness even as his voice remained steady. "I don't know."

"You could stay for a while… here, or in Skaguak," she said, trying to keep the eagerness from her own voice.

He turned to her, both sides of his face barely visible in the dim light, and the color, the depths of his eyes matched, if not the face around them. "Do want me to stay?"

She looked away, watched the clouds sweep across the sky, suddenly afraid to meet his eyes. "I don't know… what I want," she lied.

"I don't know, either…" he said, his voice low even in the stillness. "But I think I want _you_…"

Katara looked back to find him watching her, a hopeful, fragile emotion in his eyes, on his face, in the lift of his brow and the curve of his mouth. He raised a hand to her cheek, tracing his fingers along her jaw, and she felt the tremor in his fingers as she closed her eyes and leaned into the touch. She sighed and _felt_ the shiver run through him at her breath on his hand; opened her eyes to find his half-closed, watching her with wonder and desire, and she leaned forward to close the distance between them as lightning flashed again.

The kiss started gentle, her lips brushing over his as he cupped her face with shaking hands and she rested her palms on his chest, feeling his heart beating strongly there. She hummed deep in her throat and he whimpered against her mouth and she pressed up against him as he deepened the kiss. She murmured in response and slid one hand along his neck and broke the kiss to look at him again. Even in the darkness she saw the flush on his cheeks, the light in his eyes. Thunder rumbled in the distance and the first fat drops of rain fell, but Katara hardly noticed.

"Maybe I _do_ want you to stay," she whispered as Zuko kissed down her check, along her jaw.

"Then you know what you want?" he replied, breath hot on her neck.

"Maybe," she sighed, tilting her head back. "I know I want _you_." He kissed her throat and she arched up against him; he shuddered at the pressure, pulling her closer.

"_Really_," he breathed, almost a hiss, and then he gasped as she kissed his ear, nipping gently with her teeth.

His hands slid up her sides, under her shirt, sending shivers across her skin, and Katara laughed, feeling light and giddy and _happy_. "Not _here_!" she giggled and Zuko swept her up into his arms, kissing her and then starting down the path. She twisted in his grip, running her hand through his hair and pulling his mouth to hers for another kiss. He stopped walking and his fingers tightened around her shoulders, her legs as he made a deep sound of contentment. The rain poured down harder, soaking them, and they broke the kiss to laugh, touching their foreheads together.

"I think I've fallen for you," Zuko whispered after they quieted, and she kissed him gently in response, putting all of her desire, all of her _feeling_, into that light touch. He trembled and she pulled back, smiling, and he grinned in response, walking down the path again. She brushed wet hair from his forehead, then looped her arms around his neck and leaned her cheek against his chest. His heart thudded in her ear, fast and steady and warm and _Zuko_, her own blood fading within him, replaced by that connection she could taste and smell and _feel_ but not describe.

He set her down outside the way-station and they paused for more kisses, for Zuko to hold her face in his hands while she stood on her toes to kiss him soundly, then he reached for the door and they stumbled inside. As one, they glanced towards Iroh's small room and their eyes met in a guilty smile, and somehow they made it up the stairs without letting go of each other and without tripping.

The lamps in the small guest room flared up as Zuko sat down on the bed, pulling her against him, and Katara broke another kiss to pout.

"I _like_ the dark," she whispered as Zuko worked her hair free from its braids.

"I just want to look at you," he breathed into her ear, and she chose to forget about the light, for now. She pulled at the fastenings on his shirt, pushed it open and slid it off his shoulders; he shrugged it off and sighed and ran his hands through her hair as she traced the hard lines of his chest, his back. She trailed her fingers over his throat, felt the blood running there with both her fingertips and her senses, and she reached to kiss him again as he slipped his hands under her shirt, making her own blood throb as her heart raced.

His calloused fingers were rough against her skin, and she raised her arms as he pulled her shirt over her head, tossing it aside and kissing her again. He held her face in his hands for a moment, then slid his fingers down her own throat, stopping to touch the pendant hanging at the dip of her collarbone. "May I?" he whispered, and she nodded, felt his fingers fumble at the back of her neck, then he lifted the necklace away and she heard a soft click as he set it aside.

She grazed her nails over his shoulders as he pulled her closer against him and she kissed along his neck, over the blood pulsing deliciously just under the skin. She bit down, gently, felt him shudder, felt the wildness in her blood rise in response, and she scraped her teeth along his neck, tracing the paths that lay just under the surface. She could feel the blood running through him, hear it, smell it; she _ached_ to taste it… She opened her eyes as she started to bite down again, her teeth sharpening, lengthening, and she noticed a faint pattern hidden in his hairline, a stylized flame and three small circles.

They both froze, so still that Katara heard their heartbeats war in the silence.

Then she was scrambling backwards as he was standing hastily and she yelled "You're a _Shadow-Catcher!_" as he shouted "You're a _vampire!_" and Katara's back hit the wall as Zuko stumbled against the bed and fell across it.

They glared at each other for a long moment, both flushed and breathing heavily. Katara crossed her arms over her bare chest – "_Skin-walker_," she hissed – and Zuko narrowed his eyes in anger, shock, and – hurt? – and then she risked looking away to lunge towards the window.

She grasped the sill, hands already shortening, _changing_, the skin on her face stretching painfully as she vaulted over the edge. She landed neatly on the ground, then sprinted for the shadows as the _change_ rippled through her body, skin splitting and peeling away in long strips. She reached the trees and leapt forward, landing on hands that were no longer hands, and felt her pants bunch and tear; she lashed her tail and the scraps of fabric fell away with the last shreds of old skin as she plunged into the forest and _ran_.

Behind her, Zuko remained on the bed, staring at the empty window. He ran a shaking hand over his face, then let his head fall backwards. He lay still, staring at the ceiling for a long time as the lamps flickered and rain fell gently outside.


	9. Changing Natures

**Chapter 9: Changing Natures**

_posted August 14, 2009_

* * *

Katara ran through the night, the rain wetting her coat as she loped through the dripping forest. Her limbs stretched in ways she still felt unused to, causing her to stumble at times, but she always picked herself up, trying to outrun the angry words echoing in her memory. _You're a vampire!_ Zuko shouted, over and over, and she wanted to cry, wanted to throw herself into the arms of someone who cared about her and pour it all out.

Instead, she whined between ragged breaths, and kept running.

* * *

Zuko sat at the table, staring at a cup of tea long gone cold as grey dawn filtered through the windows. _You're a Shadow-Catcher!_ Katara's voice echoed through his memory. _Skin-walker..._ He shivered.

Iroh found him there, the older man strolling into the kitchen and stretching with the new day. Zuko didn't look up as he moved through the small room and drew back the curtains. Finally his uncle paused, hands folded into his sleeves, and Zuko felt something break inside him.

"Uncle…" he started, throat catching. "Uncle… what is a Shadow-catcher?"

"Oh, my dear boy," Iroh said softly, placing his hands on Zuko's shoulders and squeezing gently.

Zuko closed his eyes and felt the burn of tears unshed.

* * *

Dawn's dim grey gave way to a cool, cloudy morning as Katara passed the wooden gateway into Skaguak. She paced through the quiet streets, head low and tongue lolling, and she concentrated on placing one foot before the other.

Toph's door seemed impossibly far away, but she finally made it, limping up the alley. She scratched at the door, long blunt nails raking across the wood, useless for turning the knob. The exhaustion pressed down against her, making it too difficult to think, to remember how to start the change back. She whined, the sound still foreign in her throat, and she wished for nothing more than to escape into sleep, to forget the last two weeks and especially the night just ended.

She scratched at the door again, gouging lines through the flaking paint, and it opened, swinging on creaky hinges. Toph stood there, solid and warm, and Katara whined again as she slid inside.

"Oh, Sweetness," Toph said softly.

Katara made her way to the kitchen, staggering with exhaustion as Toph followed her. "On the settle," she said gently, and Katara crawled up onto the seat, curling into herself. Toph patted her shoulder carefully and Katara sighed, tucking her nose under her tail and closing her eyes.

The change started as she tried to relax into sleep, its pain adding to an ache that had nothing to do with strained muscles and fatigue. She felt Toph cover her with a blanket and heard her leave the room, and finally she slid into darkness. Just before it claimed her, she felt a distant heartbeat, the bond stretched thin but still present, and in her nightmares she saw gold eyes darkened with pleasure, and the flames that had consumed her village.

* * *

"Of all the names our guild has carried over the years," Iroh said quietly, removing the kettle from the stove, "'Shadow-Catchers' is the one I most hate, for it was coined by innocents." He poured hot water into the teapot, reached into the narrow cupboard for cups. "Those like Katara, her family… they are not who the Guild was formed to protect against."

Zuko stared at his tea, still cold; idly, he thought of heating it again, but realized he didn't care.

Iroh cleared his throat. "If I may ask…"

"She saw the Guild mark." He ran a hand through his hair, over the brand willingly taken to symbolize an ancient promise. "She was…" The memory of teeth sharp against his neck, how _close_ she'd been, the smell of her arousal and the sound of her breathing, overwhelmed him and he couldn't go on.

Zuko clenched his hands where they gripped the table, noted how white the knuckles were. He didn't move as Iroh took the old cup from before him and replaced it with a steaming one. His uncle settled across the table from him, hands cradling his tea, and waited. Zuko let out a long breath, the steam from his mouth disrupting that from his cup.

"She…" he started again, but didn't know how to begin, how to explain it. "I… I called her a _vampire_."

Iroh made a sound of disapproval, almost a cluck. "That was vulgar, Zuko."

He tightened his grip on the table, felt the pain from the pressure. "It wasn't something I planned to say," he said through his teeth.

His uncle said nothing, sipping his tea slowly, and waiting. Zuko forced his hands to relax, folded them in front of him on the table. The tea still steamed, but he ignored it.

"She… She went out the window," he finally said. "I think she was starting to _change_… but not like I've ever seen before." He flicked his eyes up at his uncle, then dropped them to study the table again. _I guess they don't like wolves_, he heard in his memory, and forced himself to continue. "I didn't realize… I had _no idea_… but I _should_ have, I've been thinking about it all night, and I should have known." He looked up again, directly at Iroh this time. "Did _you_ know?"

Iroh sighed. "My boy, I knew when I first met her, years ago." He broke Zuko's gaze to sip his tea. "You don't get to my age in the Guild without knowing the signs, and she doesn't bother to hide who she is. She just _is_." He looked out the window and Zuko wondered what he saw, what he remembered, or if he was just trying to avoid the tacit accusation. "She is young… younger than you, in her own way. It is different for her. For xueyin."

"I _know_," he said vehemently. "I _know_ it's different." Iroh said nothing, only continued to sip his tea, gazing out the window. The silence stretched between them, and Zuko felt the faintest tingle of sensation, like the whisper of a dying fire, and wrenched his attention away from it. "How… how old _is_ she?" he asked, just to break the silence, to concentrate on something, _anything_ but that.

"I don't know," Iroh replied slowly. "I never asked." He looked back to Zuko, met his eyes for a moment before Zuko looked back down at the table, unnerved. "I _do_ know that she hasn't aged a day since I arrived in Skaguak, more than seven years ago."

The skin at the back of his neck prickled, a shivering sensation that left him cold. _When I was a girl… _her voice whispered in his memory, and he wondered how long ago that had been.

Iroh's voice startled him. "She healed you, you know."

Zuko frowned. "I was caught in a landslide. She used her waterbending to –"

"It was not waterbending, my nephew."

Zuko stared at him, not wanting to understand, but Iroh met his gaze calmly.

"I saw it in you the moment you walked down that path. She used her own blood to heal you, and it probably still runs in your veins." Iroh sighed again and put his cup down. "Tell me, Zuko, do you remember the Guild teachings on a blood bond?"

* * *

Katara woke slowly, shivering, her muscles cramping and feeling more tired and sore than when she had staggered into Toph's building. She sat up slowly and clutched the blanket tighter around her; the stove radiated heat, but she didn't want to move towards it, didn't want the warmth of a fire right now; her skin felt soft and fragile, and the flames reminded her of warm golden eyes.

_At least it's gotten easier_, she thought, forcing her memory to her first changes, the pain and terror of skin stretching, tearing as she realized she was _different_. The memories still scared her, countless years later, but she dove into them; _anything_ to keep from thinking of the night before.

Toph wandered in suddenly, breaking her concentration. "Here," she said, thrusting a thick quilted robe at Katara. "Put this on. I'll make us some dinner."

Katara stared at her for a moment, but Toph had already turned, taking the kettle off the stove. She stood, let the blanket slide back to the settle, and pulled the robe on, belting it around her waist. The piles of loose fur and curls of grayish skin caught her attention. "Do you…" she started, embarrassed. "Do you have a broom that I can use?"

Toph waved her hand, set a pot of tea down on the table. "Don't worry about it. You can clean it up later."

"Are you sure?" Katara asked. "I can –"

"Sweetness," Toph interrupted her. "Sit down. Have some tea. I'll worry about a little dog hair in my kitchen later."

Part of Katara bristled, but she held her tongue and fetched two teacups and sat down. Toph banged around the kitchen, heating a griddle and dishing out last night's rice. She cracked eggs onto the griddle, dropped one of the shells on the floor to join fallen grains of rice. The eggs sizzled and Toph flipped them messily, waited a moment, then slid them onto the rice. She plunked the bowls down on the table, rummaged in a drawer for chopsticks, then sat in the chair adjacent to Katara.

The rice was cold and slightly burned and the eggs were rubbery and the tea was over-steeped; it was nothing like Iroh's cooking, but she ate quickly. She didn't want to think of Iroh or the way-station, either, and she was ravenous.

"So…" Toph finally began, when Katara had finished her meal and was fussing with her chop-sticks.

"He's a Shadow-Catcher."

Toph frowned. "He's not that old."

Katara shook her head, felt tears well up in her eyes. "He had a mark. Here." She touched her neck, remembered Zuko shuddering under her fingers, the whisper of breath in her ear. "It was the same. They wore that symbol when they came to my village."

"A hunting guild," Toph sighed. "Great. I always knew there was something about Iroh, and when that boy walked through my door…" She leaned back in her chair. "Well, they _seem_ harmless. Maybe they've been cast out. Iroh's been here a long time."

Katara ignored her, staring at the table. "I can't believe I trusted him," she whispered. "I told him everything, and he…" She cut herself off, squeezed her eyes shut to keep the tears from falling. "He told me things, they seemed true and maybe they were, I never felt him _lying_, but how could he…"

"Oh, Sweetness." She felt Toph get up, coming to stand beside her, felt the awkward but comforting pat on her back, and suddenly she couldn't stop the words.

"I thought he would _stay_ and that maybe he wanted _me_ to stay, and everything felt so _right_, for just a moment, but…" Memories of his heartbeat and the smell of blood in his veins flooded her mind; she remembered how the wildness that always swam inside her and sometimes surged up had overwhelmed her, _beckoned_ to her, and she felt shame mix with her desire to understand.

"I tried to _bite_ him," she said softly. "I don't even know _why_… it just… I couldn't… I've _never_ done that before, even with…" She wiped her face, sniffling as Toph rubbed comforting circles on her back. "I shared blood, only a few nights in… to heal him – he would have died, he was _dying_, I could feel it – I remember just a little of what my Gran told me, and I think…" she squeezed her eyes shut. "I think I made a _bond_. With him. And I don't know what it means, and now…" She choked on a sob, feeling his distant presence, stretched thin but there, far away through the forest. "I can still _feel_ him, and I don't know what to do," she whispered.

"Oh, Sweetness," Toph said again, and hugged her. Katara groped for her hand and let the tears come.

* * *

Zuko lay awake for a long time that night, his mind too crowded for sleep. He tried to remember everything about her, everything she'd said. Why hadn't he _known_? Why had he –

He blocked that thought, and thought of their conversation around the fire, when she still shivered from the cold of the creek. _... the ancient enemy of our people_… _hunted our clan since the beginning of time… came when I was a little girl… I felt so helpless... one day… find the Shadow-Catchers… all I can do is wait._

_Stupid,_ he thought, throwing his arm over his eyes. _I'm so stupid_. He remembered the anguish on her face, pictured her as a child, faced with a team of Guild hunters intent on wiping her kind out. The image disturbed him – _terrified_ him in its intensity, and instead he tried to remember his mother, how she looked before she disappeared, his uncle's broken voice telling him that the xuedai had taken her away.

He pushed that thought away as well and went back to reviewing fragments of conversation over and over, long into the night, and his mind kept to returning to one moment, one image burned into his memory: the expression on Katara's face as she stared at the snarling mountain cat – not fear, but instead the stare of one predator facing another. He shivered. _What would have happened if I hadn't driven it off_? he wondered. _Would she have fought and changed right there, would I have run before it was too late_? but he realized that had already been too late; it had been too late when he woke from crushing darkness to her ocean-blue eyes.

_They never told me about this…_ he thought, rolling onto his side and feeling a distant whisper, the terrifying seep of emotion into his mind, fatigue and a deep despair different than his own numb horror. _A blood bond_, his uncle's voice said in his memory, and he tried to block it out.

When he finally slept, he dreamt of the burning earth and the smoking trenches, but it no longer frightened him, until the dream shifted to _her_, hot and cold and shadowy and surrounding him and he couldn't escape but he didn't _want_ to. He dreamed of her as a wolf, as a woman naked in his arms, as a night-blue jay, as a whale that swam through the sea; he felt her teeth sharp on his neck and her hair loose in his hands and he wanted her even as he wanted to hate her.

* * *

Katara sat at Toph's table, staring blankly out the windows at the morning sun.

Zuko's voice echoed in her memory, as inescapable as the bond's faint whisper. _Tracking people down is… something of a family business. _She remembered the shadows in his memory, the odd tone of his voice… _Like the Dingju-dians?_ she remembered saying, and she cringed at her own ignorance. _Stupid_, she thought. _You're always too trusting_, but she remembered the sincerity in his voice, in the emotions that colored his dreams.

Even more, though, she remembered the way his blood had seemed to call to her, overwhelming her mind and pulling all of her attention to that single, pulsing flow… that momentary loss of control scared her like nothing had since hooded figures emerged from the forest to burn her village.

A knock shattered Katara's thoughts and she shook her head as she stood, pulling her borrowed robe tighter around herself before she opened the door. Her brother stood there, wearing a huge grin.

"Sokka!" she shrieked, and threw herself at him. He hugged her close and Katara squeezed her eyes shut. "I missed you," she said softly.

"I missed you, too." He patted her back comfortingly. "Toph said you'd had a rough night? Something about 'a predictable collision of expectations?'"

Katara forced herself not to stiffen, or to cry. "I don't want to talk about it," she muttered, releasing him to stand with arms folded. "How long are you in Skaguak for this time?"

"A while." He made a sound of disgust. "That damn engine had a head gasket unseat, and I'm waiting for a replacement to get here from Ba Jin Hu. The agent said it could take a _month_ to get here. Can you believe it? A month!" He scowled, but then smiled at her again. "At least we'll have a little time to catch up." He craned his head to look beyond her. "Does Toph have anything in the kitchen? I'm _starving_." Without waiting for an answer he stepped inside, made his way to the sparse pantry. "Oh! Suki says she's making dinner for you tonight!" he called.

Katara wiped her eyes and smiled, feeling better than she had since… _Feeling better_, she caught herself, but the faint churn of emotions, a distant heartbeat, lingered even as she followed Sokka back inside.

* * *

_A blood bond_… _when blood is received, but not exchanged_…

Iroh's voice echoed through his mind again, too loud to ignore as Zuko stared at the necklace discarded on the low dresser. The lines carved into it suggested a face – the face of the _moon_, he realized, both full and a crescent at once. He picked it up and the silver was cool against his palm and he suddenly remembered the lines curving along Katara's thigh, the round face in the tattoo wolf's belly, and he realized they were the same. _That ancient promise, made on the night of the full moon_, her voice whispered and ice ran down his spine.

He sat down slowly on the bed and allowed himself for a moment, just a _moment_, to feel the flutter of Katara's presence, far away but surrounding him somehow. He closed his eyes and pushed the fear down and again his uncle's words floated to the surface. _Such a bond is different for everyone, but unbreakable even by death_…

Memories flooded him, old and raw alike: his uncle's tales of valiant battles and fearless chases, protecting innocent people from fates worse than mere death… Katara's hand on his arm as the nightmare of the War poured out of him, the touch as comforting as her quiet acceptance… a bloody body, uncounted tiny punctures obscured by violent slashes, torn to shreds and left behind by the xuedai who themselves lay dead a few hours later by his own hand… steaming water concealing and revealing smooth brown curves… his mother's soft smile and the emptiness of his father's house… _You're not a failure_, Katara's voice warm and her embrace warmer.

He opened his eyes to see the wall, the window she had vanished out of, and bowed his head. _What do I do now_? he wondered, staring at the necklace in his hands, but found no answer.

* * *

Katara picked at her food, trying to enjoy the company seated around Suki's generous table. She sighed and looked at her plate, seeing Sokka's grandiose gestures at the edge of her plate. The bond lay quiet at the back of her mind, just a faint pulse, and before she could stop herself she wondered what Zuko was doing, if he –

"_Katara!_" She looked up to see Sokka and Suki looking at her, Toph tilting her head slightly in the way she did when she was listening.

Katara blinked. "What? Oh. Sorry, Sokka. I'm just… What were you saying?"

"Come on, Katara," her brother started, wagging his chopsticks at her. "Pull yourself together. It's not like you were in _love_ with this Zuko guy, right?"

The blood seemed to freeze in her veins as the room went silent. Sokka chewed, seemingly oblivious, while Suki glared at him and Toph frowned. Katara stared at her plate, then pushed her chair away from the table, standing abruptly. "I have to go."

"Already?" Sokka asked around his mouthful. "But we haven't had dessert – ow!" The thump sounded very much like Suki slapping the back of his head, but Katara felt too shaken up to care. She stood for a moment on the front steps, looking up at the cloudy sky; she didn't feel like going home, to her room in the Golden Peaks, to the space she so briefly shared with Zuko. She thought of his trunk, waiting in the corner of her room, and she sat down with a sigh.

Katara heard the door open a few moments later, and Toph settled herself on the step beside her.

"Suki's making him do dishes. And she hid the pie."

She almost grinned, but then she remembered doing dishes with Zuko, the chore passing easily as they… she rubbed her eyes wearily. "I think I need to get away for a little while," she said softly, feeling the pulse at the back of her mind.

"You probably do," Toph agreed.

"Here… it's just…" Katara hugged her knees to her chest. "Can I stay with you again tonight?"

"Only if you make breakfast."

"It's a deal." She sighed, leaned her head on her knees. "Do you think I'm over-reacting?"

"You? Over-react?"

"_Toph_," she said warningly. "I _will_ cry again, so help me –"

"Fine. Yes. I think you're over-reacting. I think you ran away before he had a chance to explain, and now you're worrying yourself sick thinking about what it _could_ mean, rather than finding out what it actually _does_ mean."

Katara considered her words, seeing the truth in them, but feeling the awful, empty sensation in her stomach at the thought of facing Zuko, of facing someone who...

"But, I know you, Sugar Queen, and I know that you're still scared of yourself, no matter how much you try to hide it, so I can't blame you too much for running." She fell silent, and they sat together for a long time.

* * *

Zuko scrubbed his hands for the third time, wincing at the splinters lodged in his palms. The job of laying new cedar shingles seemed easy in comparison to removing the old, but his hands still bore witness to the effort required. He rinsed the soap off and examined his fingers again and decided that a fourth time would not improve the result, then let the cooling water out of the washbasin and dried his hands. Iroh moved quietly about the kitchen as Zuko settled into a chair, wincing at muscles sore from climbing, kneeling, and hammering.

The work moved less efficiently without a second pair of hands, but Zuko felt thankful for the time to simply _think_. Hands occupied with a meaningful task and body heavy with exhaustion, his thoughts and memories seemed less frightening, less immediate, and for the first time since feeling the sudden, terrifying pressure on his neck, Zuko felt calm, almost at peace save for the nagging of questions still unanswered.

The presence behind his senses fluttered softly, whispering without words and increasingly hard to ignore, and he suddenly felt himself wanting to explore it, to feel it and learn its shape, like running his tongue over a sore tooth.

"_Zuko_," his uncle said, and he looked up to find Iroh watching him from beside the stove. "I asked, in a way not meant to pressure you into revealing your innermost thoughts, 'how are you?'"

Zuko looked down at the table, studying the grain of its dark wood yet again. "I…" he started. "Uncle… I don't really know _how_ I am. Or what to think." The flutter at the back of his mind quieted but remained to remind him of all that had changed, that continued to change. "I… everything was easy. Well, not _easy_… but simple. I knew what was wrong and what was right and what I was supposed to do about it. Or I thought I did. But now… since…" he trailed off, trying to channel the torrent of thoughts into a stream of meaning. "I'm worried that I don't know what's right and what's wrong, and that I never _have_, even if I thought I did… and that I did things in the past that were wrong even thought I thought I was right."

Iroh sighed and set a lid on the pot he had stirred, setting it carefully on the very back of the stove. He wiped his hands on his apron, and sat down at the table, a somber expression on his face. "The time has come for you to choose, Zuko."

"… Choose what?" he asked, unsettled by the intensity in his uncle's regard.

Iroh sighed again, the sound infinitely sad. "Zuko… the massacre… Did Katara tell you of the massacre?"

Memories rose in his mind, of long wooden houses, a line of settlement on a wild shore, consumed by flames, the images both foreign and familiar and he realized with sudden clarity that these were _her_ memories, spilled into his mind by the bond of blood. "… yes," he finally responded. "She told me."

A weary expression slipped onto Iroh's face, making him look older – _old_ – and Zuko felt a pang of fear unrelated to those unfamiliar memories. "I had hoped to never revisit that day," he began, the weariness creeping into his voice as well. "… but… I was there. Your father, too." Zuko stared at him, both surprised and somehow not as Iroh continued. "We were looking for _him_, as always. We didn't find him, and the village burned for nothing, a few xueyin and far too many innocents exterminated for _nothing_ – for the sake of a legend that threatens a few powerful people."

Iroh looked directly at him, his gaze somber. "It is an unpleasant truth to bear, Zuko. Katara's family was wiped out by ours, with most of her tribe and all of her clan save her brother. I watched the slaughter, even as I realized that I couldn't stop it." He reached over the table to grip Zuko's hand with quiet strength. "_Children_, Zuko – infants, toddlers, elders, struck down by fire beside warriors, all in the misguided notion that _we_ were _right_."

Iroh squeezed his hand again, then released it, leaning back in his chair and slipping his hands into his sleeves. "That was when _I_ first began to doubt, Zuko. Subsequent hunts only reinforced that feeling – we slaughtered innocents in the name of protecting innocents, and it became increasingly hard to bear even as I tried to tell myself that I prevented more harm than I caused."

"The teachings…" Zuko started, remembering the endless lessons of his childhood, but Iroh silenced him with a look almost pitying.

"They are not like we were taught," he said gently. "Some of them, yes… the xuedai are dangerous to us all, but those like Katara… her family… the unending nameless xueyin who have been executed by our guild and others…" Iroh sighed heavily. "They are not why we were formed and there's nothing I can _ever_ do to be rid of the shame I bear for my part in it.

Iroh cleared his throat, the sound low and almost choked. "I did try to leave it behind. I spent time in Skaguak when you were a child, and other places, when I thought that I could make a difference. I returned to Ba Sing Sei, to the guild, to convince them of our error, and to try to soften the loss of your mother, but Ozai was the guild leader then, and a dangerous politician besides.

"One day soon after, I found myself at a crossroads, where I could no longer ignore the truth. That was why I left, Zuko, when you were almost a man but still a boy. I came here, because I felt that I could attempt to atone in some small way for that original massacre, and because I knew that eventually, the guild would return to Skaguak."

Iroh fell quiet, the weight of his words hanging in the room between them. Zuko studied his hands, unable to look at his uncle and the silence stretched until Iroh spoke softly again.

"Zuko, you have come to the same crossroads that I faced those many years ago, and now you, too, must look into your heart and choose who it is you truly want to be. Are you going to allow your past to define your future? Or are you going to set aside your past and define your future for yourself?"

Iroh spoke the words with quiet resolve, statements rather than questions, and Zuko knew that his uncle did not ask for a response. The silence returned as they both sat immersed in their own thoughts. The distant connection trembled, drawing his attention, and Zuko thought of Katara's eyes, brilliant with pleasure as he gently touched her face, the same eyes narrowed in anger as they stared at each other from a void that spanned a room and two lifetimes.

Iroh leaned forward and cleared his throat, interrupting his thoughts. "On a more cheerful course of discussion, I believe that it nears time for one of my occasional journeys to Skaguak."

Zuko looked up involuntarily as terror and hope infused his body. "The way-station will soon run low on flour, and we could use additional rice, especially if this summer proves to be as busy on the trail at last. My supply of candied ginger could stand to be refreshed, and I find myself wondering if Ms. Bei Fong has re-ordered that delightful white tea that I sampled last time I made the journey… I must confess that I bought her entire stock and drank it all soon after I returned home…"

Iroh broke off his musing to look directly at Zuko, his gaze deceptively mild, and Zuko looked away quickly. "I would of course welcome help on the trail into Skaguak – the mules can be difficult to control when they don't have full panniers to weigh them down."

"Uncle…" Zuko began, rubbing his eyes wearily. "Why don't you ever just _tell_ me that I should do something?"

"Zuko," Iroh said disapprovingly. "You must always choose your _own_ path through life." His expression turned to a smile as he stood. "I fear that I must retire now, to prepare myself to plan for our approaching journey." He patted Zuko's shoulder affectionately as he moved towards his small bedroom. "Sleep well, my nephew."

Zuko drank the last of his tea quietly, then slipped his hand into his pocket. His fingers ran over the carved ridges of Katara's necklace, and suddenly the faint trickle of emotions, the distant tingle of awareness at the edge of his mind, seemed less frightening. "Thank you, Uncle," he whispered.

* * *

Katara stood in front of the Golden Peaks the next afternoon; the building looked the same as it had since she'd started rooming there, several years ago. She took a deep breath, pushed the door open, and stepped into the front room.

Ho Ten looked up and smiled broadly. "Ms. Katara! It is good to see you again. I trust your recent travels were good?" She nodded, knowing better than to try and slip a word in edge-wise. "It has been busier and busier here – this summer looks like it will be crowded here at the Golden Peaks!"

Katara smiled as she started towards the staircase.

"Oh, and a letter arrived for you, just a few days ago!" She turned back, puzzled; Ho Ten thrust an envelope into her hands. "I hope it is good news!" A crash sounded in the back room, and he jumped. "Well, I will see you soon, I hope!" he exclaimed, before rushing into the back room. As Katara started up the stairs, she heard rapid questions, and she shook her head as she looked down at the envelope in her hands. She recognized the character for her name and another character that might have been that for "wolf"; the rest were a meaningless track of elegant lines across the paper.

Once in her room, she flopped down on her bed, ignoring the puff of dust that rose around her and ignoring the trunk pushed into the far corner. She drew a knife from her pocket and slit the envelope open, then drew two sheets of paper from it. One had a few lines of sloppy characters scrawled across it, the other was crisp parchment with neat black calligraphy and a wax seal at the bottom. She shrugged, slipped them back into the envelope, and went to her press to find fresh clothing.

* * *

Katara found Sokka, as she knew she would, on the docks. "I said I needed fifty gallons of number-two oil, not two gallons of number-fifty oil!" he shouted as she approached. The delivery boy seemed to wilt under his tirade, and she slipped up beside them.

"Easy, Sokka, I'm sure he was just on his way back to the depot to get the right oil," she said, gesturing behind her back for the delivery boy to go. He did, leaving brother and sister standing on the dock.

"Two gallons of number-fifty oil," he muttered, then looked up at her, rubbing the back of his neck. "Katara, about last night…"

"Here!" she said, thrusting the envelope at him. "I need you to read these for me."

Sokka looked down at the envelope, wiped his hands on his pants and took it, pulling the two letters out.

"_Wolf,_" he read from the first one, the one with the messy handwriting.

"_I know this guy sounds like a real piece of work, but he seems legit – had a bunch of legal papers and everything. I'll vouch for him, since I know you're always suspicious of us Northerners._

_"Come visit someday,_

_"Smellerbee."_

Sokka looked up. "Aww. Smellerbee misses you. After all these years."

Katara rolled her eyes. "Read the other one."

"I know, I know," Sokka said irritably. "You know, _you_ could always learn to read, and then you –"

"Sokka," she said warningly.

"Fine. Reading. _To Katara of Skaguak, known in some circles as 'the Wolf.'_

"_I have heard of your experience and reputation as a guide, and I wish to hire you to lead me and my companions on a search of particular importance. I am attempting to find someone who disappeared some years ago, and have so far tracked him to Ba Jin Hu. I wish you to meet me in that city and brief me and my men during the voyage south. It is imperative that we arrive in the Southern Territories ready to find our target, for he is a dangerous man, known to slip through the canniest of traps. _

"_I acknowledge that this contract is different than those you are rumored to usually take, so I will only require your services so far as his probable hiding place, and then I'll consider your contract completed. For your services, I will compensate you up to the amount of_ –"

Sokka whistled. "Wow, Katara, I know you don't care about the numbers, but that's a _lot_ of money."

Katara waved her hand dismissively. "Whatever. Keep reading."

"_– and reimburse you for the expense of traveling to Ba Jin Hu via the method of your choice. I await your response at your earliest convenience, and will be staying at the Cadillac Hotel once I arrive in Ba Jin Hu._

"_Signed, Ziyang Zhao, Huang Gong Hui."_

Sokka looked up at her. "It's dated three weeks ago, and postmarked Sheng Ziyou. I bet he'll arrive soon." He checked the calendar hanging on the wall. "The next mail packet leaves tomorrow. They always have tickets North this time of year."

"What does 'Huang Gong Hui' mean?"

Sokka shrugged. "Beats me. Does it matter?"

"I don't know…" she started, and Sokka slugged her arm gently.

"Hey. You were just talking about how you wanted to get away for a little while. Now, some lawman wants to find an escaped criminal and give you a free round trip to Ba Jin Hu. I think you should take it."

"I'll think about it."

"Besides. You do this stuff all the time. Remember Yon Ra? They wrote an article about you in the paper after you helped bring _him_ in."

"I said I'll think about it, and I'll think about it!"

* * *

Katara stood on the wharf the next morning, the breeze whipping her braids around. Sokka squeezed her shoulder, and she turned into his embrace. "Hey. I'll miss you, but I'm glad you're going."

She nodded against his chest, wiped her tears on his chest. "I just…"

"Shhh," he said softly. "I know. It's hard." He rested his chin on top of her head and for some reason, she remembered their father, tall and strong and smiling. "Don't think _too_ hard, and I'm sure you'll feel better, soon." He released her, and she stepped back, wiping her eyes again. He smiled. "Hey. Make sure to get passage on one of those fancy new steamers on the way back south – I hear they have _fabulous_ food, four times a day!"

She laughed despite herself. "I'll miss you," she said. "I hardly got to see you this time, at all."

"I'll be back soon," he said, and then they were cut off by a long, loud whistle. "Time to go," Sokka said, pushing her towards the gangplank.

She picked up her bag and walked, Sokka beside her. They embraced again, then she stepped up the gangplank and onto the steamer. "Remember to bring the trunk to Toph," she called, and he waved in response.

Sailors rushed along the dock and the deck, casting off lines in response to barked signals, and the mail packet, a light, narrow steamer with only one stop between Skaguak and Ba Jin Hu, pulled quietly away from the dock. Katara stood on the stern and waved until she couldn't see Sokka any more, then watched until Skaguak vanished around a bend and into the misty distance. She stared at the water, churning deep green and white behind the ship, but no matter how long she waited, the faint pulse of awareness at the back of her mind didn't diminish.


	10. Boom and Bust Blues

**Chapter 10: Boom and Bust Blues**

_posted October 17, 2009_

* * *

_Welcome to Skaguak_, Zuko read. _Golden City of the South_. The wooden gateway looked ancient, weathered and worn but still sturdy, and he wondered suddenly just how many times Katara had passed under its arch.

He took a deep breath, steadying himself, and stepped through. Ginger balked at first, but he tugged on the lead rope and the mule started forward reluctantly, Jasmine close behind.

Ahead, Iroh rode Camellia, the mare's gait the same patient walk it had been throughout their short journey from the way-station. Iroh turned in the saddle. "Nearly there, my nephew! Ms. Bei Fong's delightful company awaits us!"

Anxiety rippled through his stomach and Zuko forced himself to breathe deeply. The bond shimmered gently at the back of his mind, fainter than in days' previous. He focused on that distant sensation to keep himself from thinking of what lay ahead.

* * *

Toph flung open the door an instant before Iroh moved his wrist to knock. "Iroh!"

He smiled widely. "Ms. Bei Fong, I hope we aren't intruding."

"Can it, Pops. You _know_ I've been expecting you – don't pretend otherwise." She grinned at his feet, or maybe his knees, and stepped forward to receive his embrace. "It's good to see you!"

"The pleasure is mine, my dear."

"Come on in. You know where the teapot is." Iroh bowed graciously and stepped inside, slipping his shoes onto the shelf beside the door before continuing to the kitchen. Toph tilted her head slightly. "You too, Sunshine."

Zuko nodded shakily, then remembered that she couldn't see. "Thank you," he stammered, and she raised a hand.

"Before you ask," she jabbed her finger towards him, "she's not here." Disappointment warred with relief inside Zuko as she continued. "She's fine – she just went North for a little while."

His tongue seemed frozen in his mouth as guilt joined the internal conflict. "Oh," he finally managed. "Um… Thanks. For telling me. You didn't have to…"

Toph shrugged, her eyes unfocused. "I thought you might like to know." She turned abruptly, following Iroh into the kitchen. "You find the teapot okay, Hotman?" she called, leaving Zuko alone to pull off his boots.

* * *

As he readied himself for bed that night, Zuko tried to settle the anxiety gnawing at his chest. Toph's third bedroom was cozy with a window that faced an overgrown side yard, and his trunk waited in the corner when he entered the room. Zuko tried not to think what that might mean as he set his pack down beside it, opened the lid and found clean clothes and his kit; he splashed his face in the antiquated wash basin, feeling marginally better.

It had been an uncomfortable afternoon in the cluttered sitting room as Toph and Iroh chatted like old friends about inane topics. After the first hour, he'd stopped trying to analyze the conversation for hidden meaning or pai sho metaphors and instead thought of Katara, her smile and her wounded snarl as that faint connection grew steadily more distant.

He thought of her again now as he turned the quilts back, slipped into the narrow bed. _I wonder why she went north. _He rolled over with a deep sigh. _Stupid_, he told himself. _She went north to get away from you_.

* * *

Zuko followed his uncle through Skaguak the next day, moving from shop to shop "re-supplying."

_Shopping_, Zuko thought firmly as Iroh paused yet _again_ to admire some knick-knack that had _nothing_ to do with rice or flour or ginger candies or even _tea_.

"_Uncle_," Zuko said warningly as Iroh considered a wooden statuette that looked like the six-armed goddess of useless trinkets. "It won't fit in the panniers."

Iroh sighed deeply. "You are right of course, my nephew." He smiled brightly. "What _would_ I do without you here to help me re-supply?"

Zuko rolled his eyes and left the shop, hearing his uncle give _still more_ warm regards to the shopkeeper.

To Zuko's great relief, they finally paused for a late lunch in a cramped but comfortable eatery. The bond surged briefly, distant emotion trickling down it before quieting again to a thin murmur; Katara was far away and he almost missed its lively feeling even as…

"You know, Zuko," Iroh's voice cut through his contemplation. "The Guild has always taught that a blood bond is a curse, a punishment for getting too close."

Zuko stared at the table as the pieces fell into place, his uncle's words and his stories and that faint sad smile he sometimes wore. "You have one, too." Understanding flooded him and he looked up to meet Iroh's eyes. "You made a blood bond."

Iroh sighed, age seeping into his posture and his face. "It was nothing like what you now share with Katara," he said quietly. Shivers coursed down Zuko's spine at her name, but Iroh kept speaking. "It is a long story, one best shared on a winter's long evening."

Zuko frowned but took the subtle hint and didn't interrupt as his uncle continued. "Zuko, I understand the confusion, the frustration you are experiencing. The true curse of a blood bond is not its existence, but its empathy." He paused for a moment, looking away from Zuko and to the window beside their table. "It is difficult for us, trained in the arts of the xuedai-ji, to be suddenly burdened with that empathy – that understanding that what was once simple… is not. And never was."

Iroh stared out the window, his eyes unfocused and clearly not taking in the busy street outside, the faded buildings and mountains rising beyond. Zuko finally opened his mouth to speak, unsure of what to say, but his uncle's eyes refocused as he shook his head slightly. He picked up his tea, heated it gently in his palm, and sipped slowly.

* * *

They entered through the shop door when they returned to Toph's building, a bell ringing as they entered. "That you, Ju-mi?" Toph called from the back. She emerged a moment later, frowning. "No, of course you're not Ju-mi. Useless boy. Good help is _so_ hard to find these days," she muttered.

"Labor problems?" Iroh asked mildly, and Toph snorted.

"All I need is someone to come in and count money and write it down, a few times a week." She threw up her arms in disgust. "Is that so much to ask?"

"I can do that," Zuko said before he realized he was going to speak, and both Toph and Iroh turned to him in surprise. "Um… I mean, if I'm staying here, in town, for a little while, I might as well do something –"

"You're hired," Toph said firmly, and turned back to the kitchen. "Who wants tea?"

* * *

Zuko stood holding Camellia's bridle the next morning as Iroh pulled himself into the saddle. The mules waited patiently nearby, flicking their tails, full panniers on their backs.

"Are you sure you'll be okay on the trail?" Zuko started, "Because I can go with you –"

"Zuko," Iroh said firmly, silencing his protests. "It's time to think about who you _really_ are." He leaned down to poke Zuko gently in the chest. "And what _you_ really want." He withdrew his hand and Zuko looked up into his uncle's warm smile. "And I look forward to seeing you when you do."

Zuko nodded, his throat too dry to speak as Iroh rested his hand on his head for a moment and smiled fondly. "I'll see you soon, my nephew." He clucked his tongue at Camellia and the mare ambled forward. Zuko watched him go, standing on Toph's stoop as the little caravan made its way down the muddy street, rounded a bend and left for the way-station.

"Looks like it's just you and me, Sunshine," Toph said suddenly from right beside him and Zuko jumped in surprise. She tilted her head. "Oh, and Sokka."

Zuko looked up as a man approached, broad and powerful with Katara's blue eyes and bronze skin. _And probably a xueyin_… He wore a scowl and Zuko braced himself, swallowing nervously as Sokka stopped in front of him, glaring. _Breathe, Zuko_.

Sokka grabbed his tunic in one fist and shoved him back against Toph's door. "_You_," he hissed. "I don't know _what_ you did, but I'm going to take it out of your hide."

Zuko forced himself not to fight and instead met Sokka's eyes. He had no idea how to respond but he opened his mouth anyway.

Toph saved him. "Relax, Snoozles," she said easily, grabbing Sokka's arm.

"Stay out of this, Toph," Sokka growled and Zuko swallowed involuntarily.

"Too late," she said, and stomped her foot. Earth rose in a pillar from the ground under Sokka's feet, throwing him backwards; Zuko's tunic slipped through his fingers and he landed heavily on the street.

Toph stomped again, and the earth receded. "Now," she said firmly. "Sokka, meet Zuko. Zuko, meet Sokka." She folded her arms and glared vacantly at the space between them. "I realize you already know _of_ each other, so let's cut to the chase and go have a drink."

Sokka rolled his eyes as he stood. "Whatever," he scoffed, turning away as Zuko straightened his tunic.

"It's twofer night at the Black Elk."

Sokka paused.

"And I bet I can get Wang Xhi to make those salmon dumplings you like so much."

Zuko watched cautiously as Sokka seemed to think this through. "Fine," he finally said. "I'll have a drink with you and the backstabber."

Toph stomped again and Sokka stumbled. "Watch it, Grease Monkey. _Zuko_ is a friend of mine."

* * *

Zuko rose with the sun the next morning, found a pair of training pants in his trunk, made his way to the yard below his room. He settled into a firebending routine, stretching and reaching and releasing fire from his fingers.

The evening at the Black Elk hadn't been _that_ awkward, he reflected. Sokka had given him the evil eye for the first part of the night, but after a few drinks, his ire shifted to the _Southern Wind_, something about a new head gasket and "those idiots in Ba Jin Hu."

Zuko finished the form with a deep breath, made his way to his room to wash quickly, then pulled on a clean shirt and found the kitchen. He made tea first, then peered into the pot sitting on the stove. Yesterday's rice lay inside and he added milk and spices, letting it simmer on the back burner as he looked through cabinets and a battered ice box. He found eggs as footsteps broke the silence and Toph stomped down the stairs, scratching her belly idly; she sniffed appreciatively. "You can _cook_!"

Zuko glanced at her, raising his brow before he remembered that the expression was lost on her. "I can do a lot of things."

She inhaled deeply. "Well, you can stay here as long as you want if you cook."

Her words conjured warmth, displacing some of the cold awkwardness settled in Zuko's stomach. He wanted to thank her suddenly, wanted to express his gratitude at having a friend, but the words, as usual, tangled in his throat. "I'm making eggs," he finally managed, and Toph grinned.

They ate breakfast in silence, lingering at the table as Zuko pushed the last bite of eggs back and forth across his bowl. Hazy sunlight lit the room through thin curtains and Zuko debated re-heating the lukewarm tea, still in its pot. His uncle would never know.

_Stop stalling_, he told himself, and took a deep breath. "I have something I need to get off my chest, and I need you to hear me out because it might sound crazy."

Toph tipped her head, frowned faintly at the floor. "I'm not going anywhere, Sunshine."

"Right." He swallowed. "Well… I don't know what Katara told you –"

"Don't worry about what Katara told me. It doesn't matter."

Zuko stared at her for a moment, then looked down at his hands, folded them carefully against a nervous fidget. "Okay. Um. I'm… I was trained as… a xuedai-ji – a vampire hunter, I guess; some people… back East…" He stopped himself to take a deep breath as Toph's even breathing revealed neither disbelief nor disgust.

"Well… anyway, the important thing is, I left my guild, and I don't do that any more, and I think I made the right choice, because I've met a couple of vamp – _xueyin_ – here, and they're just people…" Katara's face rose in his mind, her expression as she stood in the hot spring, and he forced the image away before he could continue.

"My fam – my _guild_ – has done a lot of wrong in the past and now… Now I don't know what to think. Or what to do. Except I know I'm not that person any more." He forced himself to breathe again, even as he couldn't look up, couldn't risk seeing the judgment on Toph's face. "I know I must sound crazy. But it's –"

Toph cut him off. "Sunshine," she said firmly. "There are more xueyin in the Southern Territories than just about anywhere but the great eastern cities."

Zuko looked up involuntarily, but her face was smooth, her blank eyes untroubled as she continued. "We like the space, and the freedom, and the quiet."

She must have sensed the shock that raced through, as she smiled softly. "There's also the people here. People come here looking for a fresh start, or an adventure. There's so often pain beneath their hope, but their feelings… It's nothing like back east." She shrugged. "This is as much a haven for us as it is for humans like you." She reached across the table to pat his folded hands, groped briefly before finding them. "Now what are you going to do, Sunshine?"

Zuko stared at her hand, delicate with short nails and thick calluses. "… I don't know."

Toph patted his hand once more, then leaned back in her chair. The window's muted light played over her face, making her seem impossibly young and ageless all at once. "That's a good answer. How about you start by making us some more tea?"

* * *

Days passed softly as the bond receded further, the merest whisper late at night when Skaguak lay still and quiet and Zuko tried to sleep. He could barely feel it during the days, which he spent increasingly in odd chores around Toph's shop. He liked the work; it kept his hands occupied, which made it easier to keep from worrying about the future, about his uncle's words and Katara's smile…

_Toph seems happy to have someone helping out, too_, Zuko thought, forced his mind back to the present as he kneaded dough for buns on her counter.

"Hey Sunshine!" Toph's yell from the shop interrupted him as he set the dough in an oiled bowl to rise. "I need your fancy Eastern education in here now!"

Zuko wiped his hands on his apron; Toph had handed it to him one afternoon with something like a leer. "Wouldn't want your fancy Eastern clothes to get dirty, would we?" but she said it with rough affection and he let it go. A boy waited by the counter, and Toph handed Zuko an envelope as he entered the shop. "Read this for me," she directed. Used to her manner by now, Zuko opened the envelope and read.

_"To Bei Fong Outfitting,_

_"We regret to inform you that the model-375 you requested in order 890241 is out of stock. We will ship one as soon as it becomes available. _

_"Our Regrets,_

_"Sheng Hu Supply."_

Zuko looked at Toph as he finished. She frowned, rummaged underneath the counter, slapped a pad of paper and an inkwell down on it, patted the surface around her. Zuko pulled the pen from its holder as she nearly tipped it over, dipped it in ink. "Okay."

"Dear Sheng Hu, you _miserable_ excuse for a 'supplier,'" she dictated.

Zuko blew on the paper after they finished, folded it and tucked it into an envelope and addressed it with neat characters.

The boy watched with awe. "Wow, mister, I've never seen such pretty writing." He grinned as he left and Zuko stared after him while Toph laughed.

That night, someone knocked at the back door. Zuko opened it and found the boy standing on the stoop with a shy smile. "Will you write a letter for me?"

Zuko nodded despite his surprise. "Sure."

* * *

"So what happened, exactly?" Toph asked after dinner one night. She stared into space, idly swirling the amber liquid in her glass, but Zuko could tell her attention focused sharply on him. He blushed despite himself.

"We were… well… it doesn't matter, but… I… called her a vampire."

Toph snorted. "Well _that_ was vulgar. No wonder she ran."

Zuko felt his temper flare, echoed by the low fire, and he clenched his own glass tightly. "I think that _vulgarity_ is the least of the issues here."

"Oh, Sunshine," Toph laughed. "How little you know about women. And _Katara_, especially."

He winced, his irritation subsiding as the fire retreated back to the coals. "Clearly." He took a deep drink instead of a sip, savoring the burn.

Toph chuckled. "Sorry. That was a low blow, even for me." She shrugged, her face serious again. "Well, 'vampire,' 'xueyin,' it's all the same to me." She raised a hand, her index finger pointing to the window behind him. "Just don't call me 'Rocky' and we're good."

Zuko smiled hesitantly and raised his glass, even though he knew she couldn't see it. "It's a deal."

* * *

A knock on the kitchen door startled Zuko the next morning as he slumped in a chair, inhaling the steam from his tea.

Sokka stood on the stoop. "I need a roustabout."

Zuko stared at him, trying to clear his head. "… awhat?"

"A roustabout. You." Sokka looked him up and down. "Make sure you're wearing clothes that you can get dirty. We need to get started."

Zuko kept staring and Sokka looked at him impatiently. "The head gasket will be here by the end of the week. I need to have the head off and ready when it gets here. That means I need help. A roustabout. _You_. Let's go."

They stood in the Southern Wind's engine room a short time later, Zuko still blinking as Sokka handed him a huge wrench and told him to "take all of those off – and don't drop any of them!"

The work went smoothly and Zuko picked up speed as he learned the trick to removing massive nuts from the top of the engine – until he came to the last one. Sokka stared at it in disgust as he let go of the wrench. "Well, [_expletive_], I was hoping to not have to get my torch, but this [_expletive_] isn't going to come off without heat."

Zuko frowned. "I can help with that." He held out his hand, drew fire to his palm, tried not to remember the easy conversation with Katara.

Sokka sighed deeply. "Great. More freaky magic. First Katara, then Toph, then… and now _you_." He sighed again, resignation in the sound. "I'm beginning to worry that we men of science are a dying breed."

Zuko let the flame die down, feeling suddenly sheepish as he stared at the deck plates. "… Sor –"

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Zuko looked up to find Sokka staring at him meaningfully. "Heat that [_expletive_] nut!"

Zuko let the flame sputter out and reached out before he could think, splaying his fingers over the nut and calling heat to his palm. Sokka nodded turned to rummage around the work bench as Zuko applied slow, steady heat to the metal.

"So," Sokka started when he turned back, his tone conversational, and Zuko braced himself. "Katara said that you're a Shadow-Catcher."

Zuko stiffened, the metal under his palm painful for a moment before he regained control of the heat. He forced himself to relax as Sokka waited. "I'm…" he swallowed nervously. "I was… I used to be… a xuedai-ji."

"And that means…?" Sokka prompted.

"A vampire hunter. More or less." Zuko let out a long breath. "We um… we mostly hunted xuedai. Berserkers, I guess you'd call them."

"Mostly?"

"Well… that's why I left."

Sokka nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer. "That's probably good," he said, nodding at Zuko's hand splayed on the nut. Zuko lifted it and accepted the oversized wrench that Sokka passed him, slipping it over the nut. Sokka retrieved a sledge hammer from a corner of the engine room and hit the wrench's handle, pounding at it until the nut came loose with a screech.

He stood back as Zuko unscrewed it the rest of the way, then lay it aside. "That's still really hot," he said in warning.

"I don't hate you, you know." Sokka's words surprised him and Zuko looked up. He wore a thoughtful expression. "The world is changing, and the old ways are gone." He wiped his hands carefully on a rag and tossed it into the corner. "Besides, you're so clearly running from something that I'm surprised _regular_ folks can't taste it."

* * *

"So, what happened between you two, anyway?" Sokka asked the next day as they attached a winch to the massive cylinder, and Zuko nearly snapped the shackle closed on his fingers. "Suki says you and Katara seemed crazy about each other before you left."

Zuko felt himself flush. "I um… I was surprised, and… _Icalledheravampire_," he said in a rush.

Sokka chuckled. "I bet she took _that_ well."

Zuko laughed despite himself, a short, bitter sound. "Well… she called me a Shadow-Catcher, so…" He sighed, then pushed himself to continue. Sokka's calm presence made it almost easy and it felt good suddenly to just _talk_. "I've been thinking about it a lot," he admitted. "I think… I think that we both just had to face who we were. If you're being honest… then I _am_ what she calls a Shadow-Catcher, and she _is_ what I call a xueyin."

"But you called her a _vampire_."

Zuko huffed in sudden frustration, steam escaping his mouth with the words. "I was not thinking about etymological semantics at the time!"

Sokka just smirked and handed him a wrench. "Loosen that until it comes apart," he said, nodding towards a pipe connection. Zuko took the tool and shifted to the other side of the cylinder head and they worked together as the afternoon wore on.

* * *

Sokka invited him to dinner that night with an awkward shrug and almost-smile. "Suki's making hot pot."

Zuko waited in their cheerful sitting room as Sokka set the table. His offer of help had been rebuffed and he stood awkwardly with hands in his pockets, looking again at the photographs displayed on the mantle. The faded print of Sokka and Katara standing behind the old woman drew his attention, and something clicked in his mind.

"How old _are_ you?" he asked suddenly.

Sokka paused, holding a stack of bowls in his hand. "Does it matter?"

Zuko dropped his eyes, looking anywhere but Sokka, anywhere but the photograph. "… I guess not."

Sokka snorted, but seemed to take pity on him. "Our clan tracked time differently than the Commonwealth. But by Commonwealth years, I'm about fifty."

"Forty-seven!" Suki called from the kitchen.

Sokka rolled his eyes. "Whatever. It doesn't really matter."

Suki echoed Sokka's earlier concerns at the table, her manner gentle as Katara's name inevitably came up. "You two seemed to have a real connection before you left. What happened?"

Zuko froze, chopsticks between his bowl and his mouth; he blurted the first thing that came to his mind. "I called her a vampire."

Suki frowned. "You know, that's really –"

Sokka leapt into the conversation, earning Zuko's eternal gratitude in that moment. "Yes, well, we all make mistakes. Me and Suki here, it took us a couple years to realize that neither of us were getting any older before we finally shacked up."

"Sokka!" Suki glared at him, affection and annoyance in the expression before it slipped and she smiled. "Always the romantic."

Sokka grinned. "It's why you love me."

Zuko relaxed as the meal wore on, relieved to have so many "secrets" out in the open. _The wine might have helped, too_, he thought as he walked slowly back to Toph's house, but it had still been pleasant. _Who would have thought that two xueyin would invite a xuedai-ji to dinner?_

* * *

"Okay!" Zuko called, and Sokka nodded from his station by the controls. He held a handle steady, then pulled a lever and Zuko covered his ears as loud hissing filled the engine room.

Sokka released the lever and the hissing died, replaced with a slow chugging sound. Sokka grinned and shifted a control and the chugging sped up; Zuko let his hands fall and watched the engine move, rockers rising and falling to draw air into the massive cylinders. The _Southern Wind_ shuddered and strained against her mooring lines and Zuko grinned despite himself as Sokka stood back with a satisfied look, wiping his hands on a rag.

* * *

Zuko stood on the wharf a few days later, casting off the _Southern Wind_'s lines to a waiting deckhand. Sokka waved from the engine room door as the boat moved into the harbor. "Thanks again, Zuko," he called, and Zuko raised a hand in return. The bond moved, a warm shimmer at the back of his mind as he watched water churn behind the _Southern Wind_.

"Glad to have you back, Sunshine," Toph said at dinner that evening, and Zuko almost smiled again.

He felt relaxed, almost accepted, and that warm feeling gave him the courage to bring up an uneasy thought that had nagged at him since Katara vanished through the window.

"Can I ask you something?"

Toph swallowed her mouthful of noodles. "Shoot."

"She um… Katara... she _changed_, didn't she… Not like…" he waved his hands helplessly. "She changed _into_ something. Something that _ran_."

"A wolf," Toph supplied with a smirk.

"Right…" Zuko swallowed. "I've never seen… felt… um… I didn't know xueyin could _change_ like that."

Toph tipped her head, considering him. "I don't know if they taught you this in _vampire hunter_ school, but we're all a little different according to our elemental affinities. You're used to dealing with _fire_ folks, right? Maybe a few earth folks? And people with no clear element?"

Zuko frowned. "I guess so. I never really thought about it."

"Surprise surprise. Well, from what I've felt of Katara, water is totally different." She took a drink and continued. "So's air, for that matter, but that's a whole 'nother story. Point is," she paused to take a huge bite, chewed quickly and swallowed. "Point is, fire is fierce and earth is stubborn. Katara's a _water_ person. She's flexible; she flows. She _changes_." Toph stared at him, the expression meaningful despite its emptiness. "And she doesn't understand that change. She doesn't understand what's _inside_ her. There's no one to teach her and it doesn't come as easily to her as to Sokka. I think she thinks too much. I know she wants more out of it than Sokka – plus, he's not a bender. He doesn't really try to _control_ stuff like Katara does. The way you and I do."

"Couldn't you teach her?"

"Nope." She paused to chew again. "I tried. We both tried – we just kept missing each other. I grew up in the Earth Kingdoms, and we came here" – and Zuko knew that "here" was not Skaguak – "when I was still young. I know how to read currents, how to use the forces in the ground and the rocks and the mountains. Like I said, water is completely different." She shrugged, then seemed to look directly into him. "Like _fire_."

Zuko shivered, felt the bond flutter in distant response. "So… what should I do now?"

Toph shrugged. "Just let it happen. Whatever 'it' is."

Her words seemed to fall into a sudden silence, the weight of their import pressing on him, choking him. "Does that mean…" he swallowed, and Toph waited. His voice finally came out a strangled whisper as he acknowledged what he didn't wish to, that dark loss of control that he'd been taught to fear, to fight to the death rather than accept. "Does that mean let her take me?"

Toph set her chopsticks down, wiped her mouth on her napkin. She took a sip of water and tipped her head to the side as anxiety built inside Zuko. "I don't know," she finally replied. "She's had relationships before, but never like that."

He remembered teeth scraping along his neck, sharp points digging into the skin, smooth curves and sleek muscles under his hands, warm breath and soft hair; he felt sick, filled with terror and desire as he forced himself to breathe.

"Relax, Sunshine." Toph reached over the table to punch his arm. "I've known Katara for a long time. I can't say what will happen between you and her when she returns… but I can say that I've _never_ known her to take someone's choice from them."

* * *

Zuko stood beside one of the bright painted towers that marked the entrance to Skaguak Harbor. He had jogged to this isolated bluff, practiced his firebending until sweat streamed down his face despite the sea breeze, but now he stood quietly watching the water. It churned at the foot of the bluff, the current changing with the tide, upwellings blending with wind ripples in endless roiling patterns.

The feel of the bond strengthened slowly as days passed and Katara grew nearer, and he allowed himself to think of her return. He could picture her face clearly, her eyes bluer than the sea before him, but he didn't know what he'd do – what _she_'d do, or what he was _supposed_ to do, or what would happen next.

_I know one thing, though_, he thought, feeling the bond shimmer, a distant awareness moving closer. _I'll wait for you_.


	11. Ba Sing Sei – Almost

**Chapter 11: Ba Sing Sei – Almost**

_posted October 24, 2009_

* * *

The mudflats stretched far into the bay, flavoring the breeze with a briny tang both like and unlike Skaguak at low tide. Seagulls wheeled over the waterfront, their shrill cries speaking of refuse to be fought over.

Katara sighed from the window of her hotel room and once again reached to finger her mother's necklace, to feel that faint connection to home. Once again her fingers touched bare skin and the reminder that _home_ lay far away, tainted by the pain of uncertainty and a distant pulse.

A note lay discarded on the room's dresser; the hotel's elegant concierge had read it aloud for her that first night in Ba Jin Hu: it seemed that one Ziyang Zhao had been delayed in Sheng Ziyou and would not arrive until the end of the week. Katara sighed, boredom joining her homesickness. In Skaguak, she would have passed the time in the woods, or visiting friends and neighbors, or helping Toph with the numerous chores that always seemed to pile up in Bei Fong Outfitting's back rooms. On her own in Ba Jin Hu, though, there wasn't enough to do to keep her mind off of –

_Time for another walk_, she decided, and bent to slip her shoes on.

The last time, she'd walked to the old exhibition grounds, now a fledgling university, and before that taken a streetcar to a nearby lake. Ba Jin Hu was huge compared to Skaguak but nothing like the great eastern cities, an old man on the streetcar had explained.

"Ba Jin Hu," he'd said in a friendly, creaking voice. "It means 'Ba Sing Sei – _Almost_.'" He laughed. "The first settlers named it that. Big hopes." Katara had laughed with him, even as she wondered what this land had been called _before_ those first settlers gave it a name.

She smoothed her skirt as she stepped out of her hotel room, locked the door behind her. _The waterfront this time, I think._ She smiled at the elevator operator and the concierge and the doorman and finally stepped onto the cobbled street.

Ba Jin Hu had been built on seven hills – though none of the locals could agree on _which_ of the many hills counted as those seven – that slanted into a deep bay. Katara remembered a time when the bay had been wider and shallower, the hills steeper and thickly forested, the streets muddy and scarred, but now the sidewalks were broad and busy and the mill long closed. She passed bakeries and apothecaries, dress shops and booksellers, and paused briefly beside a newsstand.

The day's press displayed a large picture of a man who oddly resembled Zuko beneath large bold characters. Katara studied it briefly, loneliness seeping into her detachment, before continuing down the sidewalk.

* * *

Sleep came to Katara only after long hours watching the curtains move in the summer breeze. The faint connection, that distant heartbeat and memory of golden eyes, lay quiet, so much so that she barely felt it except at night when Ba Jin Hu slept around her. In that stillness it became intolerable, an uncomfortable, teasing pulse that joined the faint pull of the waxing moon.

Katara turned away from the window again, her eyes adjusting slowly to the room's darkness. Her thoughts wandered again to Zuko, if he hated her, if he would be there when she returned to Skaguak or if on her journey south she would pass a steamer carrying him and never know when he left.

_I'm sorry_, she thought, but the connection stayed quiet.

* * *

The concierge called to her the next morning as she entered the lobby. "A telegram arrived for you earlier, Madam Katara," he said, holding out a slip of paper.

"Oh. Um." She hesitated, embarrassed in a way she'd never felt in Skaguak, in the Southern Territories. "Can you read it aloud, please?"

"Of course, madam," he said without changing expression, and the embarrassment ebbed.

_"Ms. Katara,_

_"My train will arrive in Ba Jin Hu at 1300. _

_"Will you meet me in the Cadillac Hotel's dining room at 1600?_

_"Ziyang Zhao"_

"Thank you," she said with a grateful nod, and the concierge dipped his head in return before turning back to his desk.

She rode the streetcar to another lake, a smaller one this time, nestled between the downtown waterfront and sloping hills. The hills looked denuded, houses growing densely in place of trees. _It's changed_, she thought.

The connection surged gently, then quieted as she rode the streetcar back to her hotel, remembering her conversation with Zuko about streetcars and trains. _I hope Skaguak never needs one_.

* * *

"Ms. Katara?"

Katara looked away from the window, its view of the waterfront beyond the narrow canyons formed by buildings. A man stood before her table, broad and confident, his smile almost warm but instead arrogant on sharp features.

She rose, extended her hand. "That's me. You must be Ziyang Zhao."

"Indeed." He took her hand, bowed low over it and straightened but didn't release it. His palm was smooth, almost soft, but his fingers were strong. "A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Katara."

She gently took her hand back and folded it carefully behind her, out of his reach. "Just Katara is fine."

"Very well. May I sit down?"

She inclined her head and reclaimed her own chair before he could pull it out for her. The waiter arrived before he could speak again and Katara absently ordered a second pot of tea.

"A cup for myself as well, and do you care for sweet cakes, my dear?" Zhao asked, and Katara forced herself to nod gracefully rather than shrug. The endearment felt false from his lips and she tried to dampen her senses, ignore the feelings that spread from him like oil dripped into the water.

"Now, Ms. Katara." Zhao settled back into his chair, moving easily despite his bulky frame. "I must thank you for agreeing to meet me here in Ba Jin Hu. I have been tracking this particular man for quite some time and am eager to move quickly as soon as we reach Skaguak."

"What kind of man is e?" Katara asked, eager to keep their attention on _business_.

"A wanted man, one who has eluded me for many years now." Something intent passed over Zhao's face, and Katara kept her expression neutral. "My superiors finally gave me clearance to pursue him full time until he is… apprehended."

"Do you know that he's in Skaguak? Your first letter just said that you had tracked him here to Ba Jin Hu." _Keep it professional_, she reminded herself. _It's just another job_.

"I have reason to believe he is in the wilderness surrounding Skaguak. He left a clear trail to Sheng Ziyou, and then seemed to head south."

The waiter arrived then with a large pot of tea and a cup and a plate of delicate cakes glazed with honey. Zhao poured tea for them both, paused to inhale the steam and sip delicately before he spoke again.

"It's always refreshing to find good tea in rustic little frontier outposts like this," he said conversationally. "Now. My associates will need to be included in the strategy we develop for once we reach Skaguak. I took the liberty of booking you passage with us aboard the _Gong Zhu Hai_, which conveniently departs tomorrow." He sipped his tea and smiled, the expression more predatory than pleasant. "There will be ample time on our journey south to develop this strategy. In the meantime, have you any general questions?"

Katara nodded. "Yes. What is this man wanted for? And what's his name?"

"I'm afraid I can't answer that," Zhao said smoothly, and sipped his tea again. "Confidentiality laws, you know – the Commonwealth seems eager to interfere in as many affairs as possible."

Katara hid her annoyance with a nod and a drink of tea, then set the cup down. "You signed your letter 'Huang Gong Hui,'" she said carefully. "What did that mean?"

"The name of my organization, Ms. Katara," he replied. "We specialize in finding people, and bringing them to where they should be, something I'm sure you understand." Zhao's faint smirk didn't match the eagerness roiling from him as he placed his empty cup on the table before him. "If I may excuse myself, Ms. Katara. I will see you tomorrow before we embark on the _Gong Zhu Hai_." He bowed politely as he stood, then left the dining room.

_Watch this man – and his 'associates_', she reminded herself, and quietly drank the rest of her tea. The sweet cakes remained untouched on the table before her.

* * *

Katara returned to her room late that night, after a long walk to clear her head of Ziyang Zhao and his slippery insinuations. She savored the night breeze blowing through the window even as clouds lay heavy on the sky, remembered the fresh taste of wind from Skaguak's harbor sweeping across the river plain. The connection pulsed quietly as she leaned on the windowsill, another reminder of what lay waiting far to the south, and she sighed.

She would have liked it to be clear or liked it to rain, but instead the clouds reflected the city's lights back to its streets.

* * *

The _Gong Zhu Hai_ departed the next afternoon, a luxurious modern steamer with two dining rooms for its passengers. _Sokka will be pleased_, Katara thought as she stood on the bow, and hoped she would be able to tell him about it soon.

Ba Jin Hu's hills slipped away as the vessel steamed from the bay, beginning the passage up the long inland sea. Katara sighed, then felt the connection pulse suddenly, then still. _I wonder what Zuko's doing_, she thought before she could suppress it, and further wondered what that ripple of sensation meant, if he was thinking of her, or just excited, or if it meant nothing, a random flare of emotion. She held the railing tightly, the metal cold under her hands. _I just wish I_ _knew_.

* * *

The first-class cabins were luxurious, decorated in the latest sleek style and with a real – if narrow – bathtub. Discontent consumed Katara, however, and she spent most of her waking hours – those not wasted _strategizing_ with Ziyang Zhao and his "associates" – on the stern deck, trying to soothe the restlessness as they steamed smoothly towards Skaguak. The top deck and its doubtlessly sweeping views were closed to passengers, but the broad planked fantail made an excellent place to spend anxious hours underway.

Katara raised her hand again, idly pushing and pulling the churning wake into patterns, feeling the way the _Gong Zhu Hai_'s propellers disrupted the water, cut it into shreds that flowed instantly back into each other. Her thoughts moved like that water, crashing into each other in unending disruption.

The memories of her burning village, the faceless hunters who swarmed from the forest, joined images of concerned eyes and subtle smiles, the warmth of Zuko's skin and his mind against hers. _He wasn't there_, Katara reminded herself, but the Shadow-Catchers' crest, the stylized flame burned into the skin at the base of his neck, belied the meaning behind those words. _Vampire!_ he shouted in her memory, and she shivered, closed her eyes against rage and denial.

In her dreams, though, she felt his blood pulse beneath his skin, smelled it mingled with the smell of his sweat and his soap; that wildness in her own blood rose up and she could almost taste him beneath her before waking alone and tangled in her sheets. The _change_ rippled beneath Katara's skin, catching her between desire and disgust and horror at what she had almost done, both in the dream and before him, weeks ago. The bond pulsed, stronger with every day even as she tried to ignore it, but it called to her and she couldn't break free.

* * *

Katara tried to avoid Ziyang Zhao outside of the increasingly useless "strategy" sessions – this man they looked for was probably southeast of Skaguak, probably hiding in the woods beyond the old Feng Seng Yuan, and that was all _she_ needed to find him – but he was inescapable at meals taken in the formal dining room, meals she was expected to attend as a lady of a First-Class cabin.

Beside Zhao's crisp shirt and jacket, Katara felt underdressed in her good skirt and the embroidered tunic Toph had commissioned from Auntie Fu Ling's shop. She tried not to squirm as Zhao continued his meaninglessly elegant conversation with the _Gong Zhu Hai_'s first officer. Tonight the topic seemed to be eastern politics, incomprehensibly far away from the forested western coast, and Katara thought of what the land, what her life had looked like before the Commonwealth and its _politics_ had touched them both.

"Isn't that right, my dear?" Zhao's smooth voice broke into her contemplation, and Katara looked up from her half-finished plate.

"Hmmm?" She blinked and forced an expression between vapid and concerned to her face. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"Never you mind, Katara." Zhao's smile was predatory behind the veil of affection as condescension rolled out from him like waves from the _Gong Zhu Hai_'s hull.

She'd heard the other passengers' whispers, resented their assumptions even as she hardly cared herself. The implications that she slept beside Zhao despite having her own cabin, despite having never entered his own, merely added to her determination to finish this assignment as quickly as possible, to find this "dangerous man," whoever he was, so that Ziyang Zhou would return north.

* * *

Whales joined the _Gong Zhu Hai_ for a brief time the next morning, their tall dorsals cutting through the deep green sea as Katara watched. She heard their high calls to each other, felt their almost-awareness of the vessel and her aboard it, and she suddenly yearned to throw herself overboard, let the _change_ overtake her, swim in the sea with her cousins and forget her life. She stood instead on the stern deck, the planks firm beneath her feet even as the steamer rolled gently over the water, and tried to ignore how the connection strengthened with each day, a warm pulse that distracted and cast new doubts into her conflicted thoughts.

_Who are you?_ Katara wondered at that distant ripple of emotions, colored the same warm gold as Zuko's eyes. The stylized flame and his shout still echoed in her mind, but she also remembered his hesitant acceptance, the fragile connection they'd found before that disastrous night, the days when they had shared and listened and found some measure of peace in the others' dreams.

_Peace you almost destroyed_, she reminded herself as the wildness surged within her, and she pushed it away along with the thoughts of how close she'd come to letting her nature take that peace – that _choice_ – from him.

* * *

The _Gong Zhu Hai_ stopped at a handful of ports along the journey, small towns sheltered in rocky harbors, but Katara viewed each from the steamer with disinterest until they reached the cannery town of Kanikek. She scanned the docks hopefully, then smiled with sudden delight; the _Southern Wind_ lay moored at the receiving dock, the long conveyor laden with fish from its hold.

She picked her way down the dock after the _Gong Zhu Hai_ was tied up and passengers allowed to disembark; she'd nearly skipped down the gangplank as the purser explained that all passengers to Skaguak must be back aboard by ten the next morning.

Sokka stepped onto the deck as Katara approached the _Southern Wind_; she waved and called out and _reached_ all at once and he looked up, a broad smile already on his face as he set a crate on the dock.

"Sokka!" she called again, and he hopped lightly up to sweep her into a hug. "I'm so glad you're here!"

She felt him smile as he released her. "The _Gong Zhu Hai_? I hear they have _two_ dining rooms."

Katara laughed and the journey's boredom and depression receded under her brother's affection. "I'll give it all up for a _Southern Wind_ dinner tonight."

Sokka grinned. "I think we can manage that." He gestured at the engine room, at the crates waiting on deck. "Help me clean up?"

"Just this once," she responded with a grin.

* * *

They sat together in the _Southern Wind_'s tiny mess that evening, the rest of the crew long since ashore. "I will admit," Katara began around her mouthful, "That you can cook fish better than anyone I know."

Sokka preened between his own bites, so clearly pleased with himself that Katara's sisterly pride had to squash him. "Even better than _Toph_."

Sokka stuck his tongue out at her. "That was low."

Katara just grinned, and the meal passed pleasantly.

"So," Sokka finally said as he pulled a squat brown bottle from behind a bag of dried beans. He set two mismatched glasses on the counter and poured for them both. "How are you, Katara? Really?"

Katara sighed as she accepted her glass. "I'm okay," she said softly and raised her glass. Sokka looked at her skeptically as he took his own glass, and she sighed. "I guess." She sipped. "Mostly."

"Katara."

She looked up at his firm tone, and sighed again and broke the gaze. "I don't know, Sokka. Okay? I don't know. I told you, I almost… _bit_ him, before I knew what I was doing, and… gods." She set her glass down and raked her fingers across her scalp, pulling her hair back from her face. "I don't know _what_ I almost did, and it scares me." She sniffed briefly, usually unashamed to cry in her brother's presence, but this felt different somehow. "I feel like I don't know _what_ I am, and… being around him just… brought that out and I almost –"

Sokka interrupted her. "Katara. You are what you are. Just like I am what I am. And it's Zuko's choice to stick around or not, knowing that." She looked up to find him watching her with concern on his face, and part of her warmed at that easy understanding they shared – had always shared – but the rest of her was too wound up to be soothed.

"He's a Shadow Catcher, Sokka – you know what they did, you were there, we were both there; they killed Mom, they –"

"Katara." Sokka's voice was firm and steady. "He wasn't there." He paused to watch her, watch that she understood. "He's a regular human. He wasn't even born then. He wasn't there, and it wasn't him."

"But –"

"No." Sokka reached over the table to grip her arm, calloused fingers rough through her sleeve. "It's okay to not blame him." They stared at each other for a long moment and Katara looked away first, feeling his sincerity.

"Okay." She took a deep breath, another, and then a deep drink, and they sat in silence for a few moments.

"I spent some time with him, you know, after he came back to town." Katara looked up and Sokka shrugged. "I needed a roustabout." He sipped his own drink. "I think he's an okay guy."

Katara stared at him, incredulous this time. "Sokka…" He looked up as she continued. "The last guy who showed interest in me – that you knew of, I might add – finally left Skaguak after the cannery overflow pipe kept getting _mysteriously_ coupled to his engine room exhaust port."

Sokka blinked, the picture of innocence even as laughter rippled beneath the expression. "Anyone could have done that.

"Sokka! You have said it yourself! There is only one 3-5/8 wrench in Skaguak! The one that you had special-ordered from Ba Jin Hu and you keep in your bedroom and charge a fee for borrowing!"

"That doesn't prove anything."

"Ufffff." Katara leaned forward, let her head drop onto the table to hide her sudden grin, and Sokka snorted.

"Fine. He wasn't good enough for you."

Katara huffed in response and raised her head. "And Zuko is?"

Sokka shrugged. "Like I said, I think he's an okay guy."

Katara stared at him, then threw up her arms in disgust. "We are not having this discussion!"

Sokka remained silent for a moment, but she felt his laughter threaten to bubble up even as he finally spoke. "We just did."

She glared at him for a moment, then they broke into laughter together. Her own chuckles might have been tinged with desperation, but it still felt good to laugh, and she slid around the bench to lean against him as they subsided. "I missed you," she said softly, and he draped an arm around her shoulder.

"I missed you, too." He squeezed her gently. "I think it's going to be okay."

She spent that night on the _Southern Wind_ in the narrow bunk above Sokka's, lulled by his faint snores and the rolling waves and the smell of fish, by memories of her father and a simpler time. The connection pulsed gently, almost comforting, and she slept deeper than she had since waking stiff and sore from running through a dripping forest.

* * *

The _Gong Zhu Hai_ pulled into Skaguak on a clear bright afternoon, the short summer at its peak in the Southern Territories. Katara stood on the bow as they coasted gently into the wharf, the captain using only a light touch of the engines to stop the vessel. The connection crackled like static, whispers of scents and images joining the trickle of emotion, and she tried to dampen its presence in her mind as she spoke with Zhao. "So I'll get you checked in at the Huakao Hotel this afternoon – it's the best one in town. Then we can get you and your party outfitted tomorrow."

Zhao's faint smile slipped almost into a frown before he caught himself. "Ms. Katara, I know I need not stress the urgency of this mission to you, but I fear that we are wasting precious time by not performing these necessary tasks as expediently as possible."

Katara shook her head. "Down South Outfitters is closed today – the owner always takes Mondays off – but I can leave him a message saying to be ready for us tomorrow. It'll be faster anyway if he has a little time to get ready for us." Zhao opened his mouth and she spoke quickly before he could protest again. "We can leave the day after tomorrow, early – we'll make better time if we start out fresh."

Displeasure colored Zhao's expression for a moment, but then his almost-sincere smile returned, even as irritation surged beneath the smooth surface. "Will you join us for dinner at the hotel, then, Ms. Katara?"

Katara shook her head again, trying to keep the gesture casual. "No, I need to check on my own gear and get my stuff ready, so that I can get you and your men ready tomorrow."

"Very well." Zhao's expression changed to a faint smirk, almost sincere if not for the frustration coloring his emotions, and the purser opened the gangplank's gate. "To the Huakao Hotel, then."

* * *

Katara focused on her relief at being away from Zhao and his associates for even just the evening as she walked quickly to the Golden Peaks, hoping for a hot bath to soothe her jitters before –

_Before what, Katara_? she asked herself and the connection jumped, throbbed for a moment before retreating again, but she didn't allow herself to think of the answer and instead quickened her pace.

Ho Ten greeted her with wariness behind his usual exuberance, then broke into profuse apology. "I am sorry, Katara, but this summer has already been exceptionally busy, and as I was uncertain as to the date of your return, I was forced some days ago to rent your room to a distinguished lady and her delightful children." He paused to draw breath but spoke again before Katara could collect her thoughts enough to reply. "I did so with much regret, you must understand, and have no fear as to your possessions, for I consulted first with your friends as to the appropriateness of this decision, and they assured me that you would not take it so poorly as to sever your long and valuable relationship with the Golden Peaks."

He drew breath in again, but this time watched Katara nervously.

"Which… friends?" she finally asked, and Ho Ten looked relieved at her calm tone.

"The little blind one – Lady Bei Fong – and the new man with the scar," he responded and her innards crystallized like skeins of ice over a pond in the winter's first frost. "They removed your possessions and I assume that they are at the lady's residence now."

Katara nodded, and turned towards the door, her mind blessedly numb.

"I trust I will see you again after this most busy of summer seasons is over?" Ho Ten called after her, but she shut the door and stepped into the street rather than reply.

She walked slowly through Skaguak, the connection pulsing – _humming_ – in her mind as she neared Toph's building. The town seemed silent in comparison, despite the people hurrying around her, talking and eating and laughing and buying in the shops lining the streets.

She reached the alley and Toph's kitchen door too soon and raised her hand to knock, hoping desperately for Toph to answer, but she could _feel_ him move beyond the think wooden door and she braced herself.

_I think it's going to be okay_, Sokka's voice said in her memory, and Katara shut her eyes as the knob turned.


	12. Like Fire and Water

**Chapter 12: Like Fire and Water**

_posted November 18, 2009_

* * *

Zuko felt her arrival even before the distant steam whistle cut through the air – the bond shimmered like rain on a sunny afternoon, and he grabbed the countertop to steady himself. _She's back_, he thought, relief and terror warring within him. _She's back. Breathe, Zuko_.

He tried to finish tallying the ledger sheets spread before him, but the bond rippled, drew away and then grew nearer and suddenly he _knew_ that Katara was walking towards him. He gave up on the ledgers, bent to rest his forehead on clasped hands atop the store counter, and breathed.

Images flashed through his mind, the mountains rising over Skaguak, Main Street's crowded walks, the alley behind Toph's building, and he forced himself up, through the kitchen, to the back door. The bond rippled, _sang_, and he didn't remember reaching for the door, turning the knob, but there she was, blue eyes as vivid as he remembered, mouth slightly open and hand outstretched towards the door.

Zuko stared at her for an eternity, overwhelmed by her eyes and her nearness and how he could _feel_ her somehow, almost _taste_ her, the sensations terrifying in their intensity but he swallowed the fear and watched her, _felt_ her do the same.

"Were you there?" she blurted out, and Zuko felt his own surprise echoed in her and tried to steady himself, block her out to hear his own thoughts. He almost asked "where?" in reflex, but the images rose in his mind, the burning village and the distant screams.

"No." He swallowed, trying to project his sincerity, trying to think of those distant weeks on the steamer, his first impressions of the Southern Territories, how _new_ the towering mountains and dense forest were to him.

They stared at each other and Zuko saw her eyes widen, _felt_ her understanding. "Okay." She took a deep breath and looked away. "Okay."

Zuko steeled himself, forced himself to speak. "But… Uncle was."

Emotion surged down the bond to him, rage in her eyes, and Zuko almost regretted saying it, but better the truth be known now than later. He felt her rage turn to helplessness, to despair, and he wanted to reach out and steady her, soothe the emotions that tore through his mind. He raised his hand and stepped forward, but stopped himself as she turned away.

"He…" Zuko dropped his hand, clenched it by his side. "He said it was what changed his mind. Why he stopped. He…" Zuko closed his eyes, trying to remember his uncle through Katara's panic, threatening to overwhelm him as it had her. "I don't think he… participated." The words felt lame, inadequate even to his own ears, but he didn't know what else to say and only hoped that Katara could feel his sincerity as he could feel her anguish.

The feelings echoing along the bond deepened, confusion and reluctant acceptance joining the pain and rage and Zuko could feel how his words cut them both, and he had never felt as helpless as he did in that moment, caught in a torrent of emotion that wasn't his. He remembered laying a muddy ditch for half the night, the earth shaking beneath him and flame burning the sky over him and the screams of his brothers-in-arms dying around him, and felt like he'd had more control over his surroundings on that hellish night in the Huilin Forest.

They stood there helpless for an eternity longer before Zuko grit his teeth and slid his hand into his pocket and tried to close his mind, to think of firebending and the clean burn of sunlight. He forced himself to speak. "I …" He withdrew his hand, held out the necklace he'd carried with him all these weeks. "You left this behind, when…"

Katara looked up and the emotion raging between them subsided just a little even as he dropped his head; he struggled to complete his thoughts against the distraction of her eyes, the memory of her teeth and her hands and that sudden, sweeping realization that changed everything. "I know it's important to you so I brought it with me, but then…" He swallowed, gathered his strength to continue. "Do… do you need help putting it on?" He looked back up and allowed himself to hope as Katara stared at the leather band, the silver pendant swaying between them.

She reached out hesitantly, touched the engraved surface, grasped the leather, and took it from him; Zuko let it slide through his fingers into hers. He folded his hands carefully behind him as she looked at it.

"Thanks." Her voice was the barest whisper, and her hands shook as she raised the necklace, clasped it around her neck and under her hair. "Thank you."

The bond surged as silence fell between them, more awkward than that first moment of reunion. Zuko wanted to reach out or run away – _anything_ to break the tension – and knew somehow that Katara did too, but they were trapped by each other, drowning in the sudden nearness, and –

"Thought I heard a steamer pull in." Zuko jumped at Toph's voice beside him, saw and felt Katara startle as well. "How's your fancy-pants client?"

Katara blinked and the bond quieted, the spell somehow broken, and Zuko frowned. _Did Toph…?_ but the earthbender was speaking, slugging Katara with awkward affection.

"Your stuff is upstairs. Wanna go get settled in?" She jerked her thumb at Zuko. "Sunshine here will make you some tea, if you want it."

"Later, maybe." Katara's voice was barely a whisper, but the crushing awkwardness had dissipated and Zuko nodded and stepped back inside to let her pass. He watched her move slowly through the doorway, glancing at him for the barest instant before turning to the staircase and ascending silently.

"That went well," Toph said, and stomped up the stairs behind her.

Zuko stood rigid for a moment longer, then slumped onto the kitchen settle. He rested his elbows on his knees and stared at the floorboards, thought of everything he might have said, everything he'd _thought_ of saying in those long anxious weeks between Katara's departure and moments before.

_I guess it could have gone worse_.

* * *

Toph led her to the second guest room, the one with soothing blue walls and a view of distant mountains across the harbor. Her press stood against one wall, displacing the bureau Katara remembered, and her own quilt draped across the bed. She sank down atop it, studied her boots standing neatly against the wall, tried to ignore Zuko's presence, tantalizingly and revoltingly close.

The bed creaked as Toph sat down beside her and shared a memory, forming it carefully in the void between them in the way that had taken Katara a decade to realize that others, regular people who aged and stayed blind to the world around them, couldn't see. In it, Zuko sat at Toph's table, hands folded and eyes downcast and posture conveying bitter shame and desperate hope. Her throat tightened and the bond throbbed, and Toph's voice held emotion that Katara had never heard from her.

"He's not one of them. Not any more." The words fell against barriers that had already crumbled, and Katara let the tears fall as Toph rubbed her back awkwardly. "It's okay."

"I'm sorry, Toph… I know, it's just…" She tried to sigh, but it came out a sob, and she leaned into her friend. _Vampire_, his voice echoed, a mere whisper after so many weeks. "There's just so much… and I don't know what to do, and I've had it with this _stupid_ client already, and I just…" She sniffed. "I just don't know where to start."

"Oh, Sweetness." Toph handed her a handkerchief. "Did you sleep at all on that big fancy boat?"

Katara laughed through her tears as she took it, wiped her eyes. "Not really."

Toph leaned forward and her shoulder brushed Katara's for a moment before she slid off the bed. "Well, I'm sure there's time before dinner for a nap. If you want it."

Katara clutched the handkerchief and tried to smile. "Thanks, Toph."

Toph didn't turn as she stepped into the hallway and closed the door, but Katara could feel her smile as she lay back on the bed; it warmed her as much as the old quilt as she drifted slowly into sleep, feeling Zuko close and distant all at once.

* * *

Toph carried the conversation at dinner, prompting Katara to share her journey north and back. "You ran into Sokka in Kanikek? Good timing." She took another massive bite, and silence fell on the table again.

"How…" Zuko started and Katara looked up and this time she didn't flinch. "How was the engine running?"

Katara reached for her water glass and shrugged, tried to make the gesture casual, though she knew Zuko could feel her awkwardness as she could feel his. _It's okay._ "Fine, I guess. He didn't say anything about it, so I guess it's fine." She glanced at him again, tried to smile. "Sokka says you were his roustabout."

"Yeah." Zuko pushed food around his bowl. "He spent a whole day complaining about benders and asking me to heat things."

Katara quirked her brow. "Let me guess. He called it 'freaky magic.'"

Zuko looked up, a ghost of a smile on his face. "I take it you've heard that, too."

Katara snorted. "I grew up with him."

Zuko's smile strengthened and Katara found herself smiling back tentatively. _It's okay_, she told herself, and for the first time, she started to believe it.

Across the table, Toph smiled.

* * *

The connection pulled Katara from sleep far too early the next morning, the sun barely risen in the sky. She pushed herself up, shook her head, groggy and unsure what had awakened her until she felt Zuko's presence burn nearby. _He's firebending_, she realized as that invisible pulse seemed to move, change rhythm; she lay back against her pillow and allowed herself to really think about that tie, to feel it pulse between them.

Her dreams had been muddled, fire and landslides and warm golden eyes, the _change_ ripping through her skin and steaming water that stung and soothed at once. The connection throbbed, Zuko's fatigue and satisfaction clear across it unlike those weeks on the steamer and in Ba Jin Hu, where it had been little more than a whisper. The sensation of him so close spawned an odd contentment and Katara found herself almost wishing he were _closer_, but…

Katara felt the side door close at the same time she felt Zuko near, move through the lower floor and start up the stairs. She rolled over, closed her eyes and stilled her breathing and hoped he couldn't _hear_ her, but his footsteps continued down the hall towards Toph's third bedroom. She tried to tune him out and fall back asleep, but she remained wide awake as sunlight climbed up the wall beside her, as Zuko's footsteps passed by her door and down the steps again.

His presence hovered warm and quiet below, almost teasing, and Katara finally gave up. She rose from the bed and smoothed her quilt, splashed her face in the wash basin, dressed quickly and stepped into the hallway.

* * *

Zuko heated water for tea carefully, holding his hands around the kettle as Uncle had taught him a lifetime ago. "_Patience, Zuko_," he had coached during the exercise, and Zuko had for once bitten back a snappy comment.

The connection shifted, shimmered, as the floorboards creaked above, and Zuko took a deep breath. _Patience, Zuko_, he repeated to himself and poured boiling water into the waiting teapot. He took three cups from the cabinets and set them on the table, then leaned back onto the settle. Sunlight played on the thin curtains and he tried to concentrate on those shifting patterns rather than Katara's presence above.

He felt her move as she came down the stairway, towards the kitchen and he tried to look away, tried not to look like he'd been waiting for her, but he couldn't look away as the door swung open. They stared at each other again, the easiness at dinner long fled and finally Zuko forced himself to look away.

"I... made tea," he said carefully, nodding at the pot that steamed on the table. "It's ginseng… I can make something else if you want."

Katara seemed to shake herself and almost smile, but then her expression closed even as her uneasiness simmered in the air between them. "This is fine," she said softly, but she poured herself a cup and sat down at the table, her posture as tense as her voice. Zuko stayed on the settle, not daring to move closer to pour himself a cup and remembered weeks before in Iroh's warm kitchen, how easily she'd sat beside him as they sipped their tea.

_Still_, he tried to tell himself. _We're in the same kitchen again_.

"Did you want toast?" he asked when he couldn't bear the silence any longer, and Katara startled, spilling her tea. "Or eggs?"

"No, thank you." Her voice was barely above a whisper, the awkwardness strangling them both and Zuko had no idea how to break it; he wanted to reach out to her, to flee out the back door and to the wharf and away from this wilderness. _Breathe, Zuko_.

Toph saved them from themselves again, opening the door with a bang and sauntering into the kitchen and breaking through the silence. "Morning, Sweetness. Sunshine." She sniffed the air and gestured, and Zuko stood and stepped forward to pour her a cup of tea. He poured himself a cup and retreated to the settle as Toph flopped down in the chair opposite Katara. "So you outfitting Mr. Fancypants today?" she asked.

Katara nodded, less mechanically than her previous gestures and a little tension drained from the air. "I'm meeting them at Down South in a little while."

"You aren't outfitting them here?" Toph said with a frown, and Katara snorted.

"Trust me, you don't want the headache."

"I want his _money_, though."

"Well, _I_ don't want the headache, then." She rubbed at her eyes and Zuko felt weariness along the bond; he wished then that he could shut it out, stop invading her privacy. "I'm going to head on over, a little early." She set her empty cup on the table and stood, ducked her head as she walked to the door. "I'll be back… later."

The kitchen seemed deafeningly quiet after the door closed, the bond echoing painfully loud until Toph yawned and stretched and Zuko looked up. "Give her a little time, Sunshine."

Memories rose with the steam from his tea and Zuko thought involuntarily of his uncle's revelations, the ashes of his old life, those brief days of _happiness_ with Katara, that warm clarity after waking from the rockslide… "Do I have a choice?"

Toph grinned, seeming to see right through him again. "That's the spirit."

* * *

Katara blew loose hair out of her eyes, short wisps that had escaped her braids and only added to her annoyance. "That about does it, I think," she finally said. _I hope_.

"Really, Ms. Katara, is all of _this_ –" Zhao waved expansively at the outfitting shop, his "associates" packing supplies into canvas panniers while old Luo the packer supervised. "– necessary?"

Katara forced herself to breathe deeply, swallow the irritation before she spoke. "The Feng Seng Yuan is at least four days' ride away. It's not an easy trip, even on horseback. This –" and she tried to mimic his gesture "– is a light load, the minimal needed for the trip there and back." She held her breath, waiting, and tried to ignore the way the connection jumped as if in response to her emotions.

Zhao sniffed disdainfully, then smiled, the expression neither warm nor pleasant. "Very well. I suppose you've done this before."

_Yes!_ she wanted to scream. _Yes, I've done this before! That's why you're paying me to do it again!_ but she held her tongue and smiled coolly in return.

Finally, _finally,_ the afternoon deepened and she stood with old Luo in his mule shed, surveying the loaded panniers. Zhao and his associates had retreated to the hotel for the evening, leaving her to finish the preparations in peace.

"That ought to do 'er," Luo said. "I'll have 'em packed up and ready early tomorrow morn."

Katara nodded gratefully. "Thanks, Luo."

"It's no worries, Wolf," he grinned. "You ridin' tomorrow?"

Katara let out her breath in a rush. "I suppose I have to. Do you still have Huan-Huan?"

"Sure do. That old nag'll outlast me." Luo grinned knowingly and Katara smiled in thanks. Most horses would try to buck her off in seconds, but old Huan-Huan was either too patient or too stupid to bother.

She left Luo to tend to his mismatched herd of pack animals and started the walk back to Skaguak proper before realizing that she wasn't quite ready to return to Toph's house, to the emotions there she could feel even now. She walked slowly along the edge of town instead, past the temple and the school and the scattered houses and the vacant lots until she came to the bridge over Fox Creek.

The creek ran wide and shallow as she walked to the middle of the bridge and paused to breathe, truly _breathe_, for the first time all day. She smelled the tall grasses and listened to the gulls crying and felt the water flow by beneath her and let those small sensations drown the murmuring in her mind, that warm, inescapable pulse.

She sank after a time into a bending form, pulling water from the creek and moving it through the air in a careful pattern, trying to make her limbs mimic the smooth flow of the creek. She finally released the water to splash back down and flow into the sea, and she sat down on the bridge and just watched the currents twist and straighten around infinite rocks and branches and tiny obstructions, intricately braiding itself like Katara's mother had once braided her hair.

The connection pulsed again, warm at the back of her mind and less threatening at this distance and with the weight of relaxation in her limbs, and suddenly she wanted to see him. To talk with him, to find out who he was and where he was going, and if they were going there _together_, after all. The connection jumped again, surged and crackled like a campfire and Katara almost stood, but then she felt Zuko moving towards her, approaching slowly and steadily.

_It's okay_, she reminded herself, and waited.

He moved almost silently, the bridge barely creaking with his footsteps and she wondered how much of that was _his_ and how much of that was borrowed from her, given to him with her blood – but then he was sitting beside her and she stared at the water to keep from staring at him.

"What you said…" she started, forcing herself to speak, to break through the silence and the awkwardness. "I'm not… I'm not a _vampire_." Beside her Zuko stiffened but Katara kept going, knowing that she had to air it. "Sokka's read some of those books, and that's _not_ what I am – I have a _reflection_, and I wear _silver_, and I _eat_, and I –"

Zuko shifted restlessly and she felt his intent to apologize but she didn't let him. "My Gran always said that when I got older I'd understand, but then the Shadow Catchers came –" She spoke though the remembered fear, tried to plow it aside with her words. "– and now there's no one to teach me and I don't _know_. I don't know _what_ I am." Her eyes burned and she dragged her wrist across her face to catch the tears before they fell, trying not to let them show in her voice. "Gran said that we're of an ancient clan, that it runs in our blood and loosens our skins, but I don't know what that means." She tried to show him that helplessness she felt, tried to project that horror and self-doubt his words had spawned in her, and felt something in him recoil. _Vampire_. She dropped her hands and her voice died to a whisper. "I just know that I'm not _that_. I'm not some _monster_." She sniffled and hated how weak it sounded.

"I know," Zuko said after a moment, his voice soft and rough all at once. "I know. The books are wrong. They're stupid. Xueyin –" he broke off and looked straight at her and she looked up, met his eyes and saw the remorse, felt it and tasted it in the air. "_You_ are nothing like that. I know."

He said it with such certainty that something inside her broke, came loose like water overflowing a dam. "Then what am I?" She leaned towards him, searching his face for some affirmation, and his eyes widened in surprise – apprehension? – as he leaned away. "Do you know? Do _you_ know what I am?"

"I… don't know." Zuko looked away, folded his hands in his lap and she knew that he did it to keep from fidgeting; she looked away and tried to calm herself as she felt him do the same. "Toph said… I've never met anyone like you before. What you did… the way you changed…" He raised his hands and dropped them again, conveying the surprise and helplessness mirrored in the connection. "I've never seen that before. I've never even _heard_ of it before."

He glanced up again and away just as quickly and Katara let herself study his face, the way he looked into the distance. The smooth side of his face turned away from her and she saw only scar, his eye narrowed permanently by puckered tissue. "My – the guild always taught us that… there's xueyin, and there's xuedai. The xueyin look like humans… but there's something _more_ about them." He looked at her and she looked back at the stream to avoid the intensity in his eyes. "Like you. There's something _more_ about you. You don't age, and you heal fast, and…" He looked away and again raised his hands helplessly. "You're different. And that's not bad, just different."

She didn't respond, watching the water rush below her feet; he stayed silent for a moment and Katara felt him gather himself to continue.

"Xuedai are xueyin who… break somehow. The guild taught that it was like a thirst, an inherent evil and instability in the blood." Katara looked up, started to protest, but he continued before she could speak. "And I know, now, that's not true. I _know_ it." He met her eyes, desperation written there and in the connection, and she finally nodded; she felt the relief as he continued. "That's just what they taught. But xuedai…" He looked into the distance again, and Katara felt his distress, unrelated to the awkwardness and uncertainty between them. "I've fought them. That's what I did, why the guild existed. I don't know what they _are_ anymore, but… they're sort of like what's in those books. They're killers."

She saw the memories then, the flashes of wild eyes and sharp fangs and blood and death; felt his fear and his drive to protect, and understood, somehow, even as she remembered the flames that consumed her village. She saw the images, the memory, reach him through the connection; felt him flinch and force himself to continue again.

"I… don't know much more than that. I mean… I _thought_ I knew, but…"

The creek flowing beneath them sounded loud, a raging torrent compared to the silence between them. "What _do_ you know?" Katara finally whispered. "What can you teach me?"

"I… don't know. I'm not xueyin – I'm twenty-six years old and I know how to fight a pointless war and how to kill xuedai and how to do well enough at university that they don't kick you out. I know the guild's teachings, but..." He shrugged, helpless again. "I guess I've learned in the past few weeks that I don't know as much as I thought."

The silence returned as Katara forced herself to calm, forced herself to speak again.

"I'm sorry," she finally said, and felt Zuko's surprise as he turned to her.

"For what?"

She stared at the stream, unable to meet his eyes. "I almost… I almost _bit_ you. I've never done that before and I don't know why I did, except that we're_ connected_ somehow, and… oh gods, I don't know _what_ I almost did, and now..." She hid her face in her hands and tried to hold back the sobs. "I can still feel you, and Gran said something about a bond, but _I don't know what that is_. I just know that I can't get away from you…" Her breath caught in her throat, burning and painful. "And I don't know what it means or what I've done and…" She broke off, looked at him through the tears. "Do you know?" she repeated.

He didn't speak for a long moment and she almost wondered if he would answer. When he finally spoke, she felt his conflict, his struggle to reconcile past with present. "All I know are the guild teachings, and what Uncle has told me…" He shrugged helplessly again, then continued. "It happened… because you shared your blood with me?" She nodded hesitantly, remembering the rockslide, remembering his life slipping away, and Zuko nodded to himself as if confirming it for the first time.

"The guild calls it a bond of blood. It's different than um… when…when a xuedai… or a xueyin… _takes_ someone. They don't really say much about it, other than that it's a curse – Uncle says that it's more like a curse of empathy – but… They… they never said it was like this." He met her gaze quickly, eyes that warm gold from her dreams, but looked away just as fast. "It's… different for everyone… but… it's not going to go away."

Katara stared at the stream, taking in the depth of that quiet statement. "I'm sorry," she finally whispered. "You can't have wanted this, and I didn't realize, and… I'm sorry."

Zuko didn't respond and the connection stayed surprisingly silent, laying still between them, and finally she looked up. He watched the stream, no expression in his scarred face but faint wistfulness trickling along the connection; she could feel how he wanted to reach for her hand, wanted to take her in his arms and pull her into him.

"I don't know what I want," he finally said, echoing her words of weeks before. "But…" He turned to look at her again. "This…" He swept his hand between them, a weak description of the way the space _pulsed_. "Whatever it is… doesn't feel _wrong_."

Relief flooded Katara, washing into him and back to her with his own ready acceptance, and she wiped the tears from her face, dried her hand on her tunic. She lifted her other hand, felt it shake as she reached out slowly, laid it softly in his, and he sighed as he squeezed lightly, stroked the back of her hand gently with his thumb.

The connection – the _bond_ – quieted, the anxiety dissipating, and they sat together quietly as the creek flowed under them to the sea.

* * *

Katara had planned to leave early the next morning, planned to avoid the kitchen's awkwardness and let the pleasant evening serve as goodbye to Zuko. Toph would sleep late and while Zuko likely would not, she could easily slip out the alley and walk the short few blocks to the Huakao Hotel, return to the wilderness and let another week or two pass before facing Zuko again. Katara planned this, reviewed it in her head as she pulled her traveling clothing on, laced her boots tight and gathered her hair into braids as she felt Zuko moving smoothly below, no doubt firebending.

Her resolve held as she slipped a few last things into her pack, smoothed the quilt over her bed, descended the stairs into the kitchen. The connection lay gentle in the air, pulsing smoothly and almost comforting as it had last night while she slipped into sleep, but it jumped as she passed the side door and before she knew it Katara had slipped off her pack and opened the door and stepped into the yard.

Zuko faced away, his back shined with sweat as he traced a complicated pattern of fire through the air and she leaned against the doorway and just watched for a few moments. It was almost mesmerizing, the way he moved and how the fire moved with him; she wished she'd slipped out without interrupting, but knows he would have noticed, would have _known_ and –

_It's okay._ Katara steadied herself as Zuko closed the form, stretched with a crack of his back and turned towards her; his face held surprise for just a moment before he smiled.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," she started, but didn't know how to finish.

Zuko just nodded, still breathing a little heavily. "You're leaving?"

Katara nodded in return. "I'll… be back in a week. This shouldn't take long."

Zuko smiled again. "I'll be here."

"Okay." She paused, frowned briefly. "I guess I'll be coming back here, too, until… well…" she stumbled. _I guess I'm homeless_, she thought, even if the Golden Peaks had never really been _home_, anyway…

"Katara…"

She looked up at his tone, soft and firm and warm, met his eyes and tried not to fall into them.

"I'll be here."

"Okay." Katara nodded again, feeling thick-witted and knowing she was repeating herself. "Okay. So… I'll see you in a week. Or so."

His smile was soft as his voice had been and she almost hugged him, almost surrendered to his embrace right there, but she smiled instead and turned and stepped back into Toph's kitchen. She picked up her pack, balanced it against her shoulders and let herself into the alley; she felt his presence, warm in the back of her mind and quiet like it hadn't been since that brief happy interlude searching for the gāo shān jasmine.

* * *

Zuko tried to focus on the papers spread before him the next day, the catalogs laid open on the counter while Toph did mental calculations. The work had become routine, his responses automatic as he marked inventory, and Zuko found his mind wandering to Katara yet again. Her presence receded slowly, a gentle shimmer far stronger than when she had been borne north on a steamer, and now almost comforting. On impulse, he reached out along it, like extending his hand to touch her on the shoulder.

The bond seemed to flinch slightly and Zuko held his breath for an instant, but then the touch was returned, a faint ripple against his mind, warm blue shallows in a deep ocean. He shivered, both scared and thrilled.

"_Zuko_." Toph's voice cut through the air.

"Wha – oh." He looked down at the inventory sheet, his pen hovering in the air above it.

"You're giving yourself away, you know."

"What?"

Toph grinned faintly. "You're thinking about her. Reaching out to her."

Zuko felt himself flush, knew that Toph could tell even if she couldn't see his face. "… Yeah. I'll be glad when she gets back."

"She will, too." Toph leaned back in her chair, resting her feet on the counter. "Sounds like she hates this guy already."

"Who is it?" he asked, suddenly curious.

"Some northern eastern jerk." Toph nodded. "Like you, only worse, I guess. Arrogant. She doesn't like him."

"And she likes me?" Zuko asked before he could stop himself.

Toph leered at him. "You tell me, Sunshine."

* * *

Zuko lay awake in bed that night, feeling the bond shimmer gently; he tried to reach along it again, but felt no distant response. Katara's presence felt distracted somehow, almost uneasy; he tried instead to think of her smile, how it had _felt_ as well as looked, and finally he slept.

* * *

A knock interrupted their quiet evening, loud even against the radio program filling the kitchen. Toph frowned from her end of the settle and Zuko set the book he'd been trying to read aside. "Snoozles?" she asked the empty air as Zuko opened the door.

Sokka stood on the stoop, sweaty and exhausted and shirtless, and Zuko knew without asking that the _Southern Wind_ did not lay moored at the wharf. "She needs me," he said simply, brushing past Zuko. Suki followed, gliding into the light.

"How do you know?" Zuko asked without meaning to, and Sokka just grunted. A tattoo stretched across his back, two wolves like Katara's that seemed to shift and shudder as he pulled a glass from the cabinet. He filled it with water, drank deeply, and handed Zuko a rumpled piece of paper.

"Does this mean anything to you?

Zuko smoothed the once-crisp parchment, but his fingers tensed as he saw the seal, skimmed the text and read the signature. "_Zhao_?" Fire flared in his hands before he could stop it and he dropped the letter hastily. "She's with _Zhao_?" He doused the flame and looked up. Toph wore a frown, Sokka a scowl, and Suki looked thoughtful. "Zhao must be looking for _him_."

"Who?" Toph and Sokka and Suki responded in unison.

"The Avatar."

* * *

_Author's note_: Thanks to Sable Ambiguity for betaing this chapter, and to Drisela for beautiful Chapter 8 art, linked in my profile.


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